Monster
by aoxomoxoa
Summary: A startling discovery during her 7th year leaves Hermione completely uncertain of where her loyalties lie.  The monster she did not know she had hidden deep inside...it has to breathe.  HGxFD.  Dark Fic.   COMPLETE
1. PROLOGUE

Disclaimer: I own nothing. It'd be pretty awesome if I did right?

A/N: I take a lot of liberty with the canon, so it goes without saying this piece is strictly AU. A lot of the events in DH will be ignored, seeing as this is my own rendition of our dear heroes 7th year. And if I do indeed make any mistakes with Potter-lore, PM me and correct the error of my ways!

_**MONSTER**_

**Prologue**

The tension in the room was so thick it could be cut with a knife.

Hushed whispers punctuated an otherwise deathly silence. Several cloaked figures sat around a rotten table, anxious for something, anything to happen. Goblets brimming with various liquors were brought to lips and drank nervously, for none knew what to expect from tonight. Cigarettes were brought to quivering lips, each hard suck a feeble attempt to calm rattled nerves.

Another raid had gone sour. No leads. No signs of _them_. No signs of _Him_. The group that sat around the table knew that there would be punishment. _Consequences_ for their failure.

One such member ran a skeletal hand through her wild raven black locks, a sign of obvious frustration. The others, save for their meager food and drink, barely moved at all. Frozen in abject fear for what was about to happen.

Unexpectedly a foul draft burst through a rear window, snuffing out all of the decaying candles strewn about the dank space. The air suddenly grew noxious and fetid, as a dense black smog swirled around the head of the tables. The occupants drew in a collective breath.

Out of the smoke materialized Lord Voldemort, his crimson eyes burned bright with rage. The death eaters felt their collective spines straighten at the sight of their leader.

"I am…" began his voice, barely louder than a whisper. Suddenly a few of the death eaters were flung from their stools like ragdolls; the bodies nearly cracking the feeble rafters that held up the ceiling. Bones cracking on impact made sickening sounds like the snapping of twigs. The table, and its contents sprung up from the floor and instantly exploded into a maelstrom of splinters and glass shards. Hands flew to shield faces and eyes as the once quiet room was plunged into complete and utter entropy. Blood poured from freshly formed wounds. Bright flashes of red erupted rapid fire from two pallid hands concealed within the darkness.

When the lights settled, the candles burst to life once more. Writhing, groaning bodies were now strewn across the floor, and before them all stood one.

"…_disappointe_d." Came the final word, slipping like tepid sludge from the paper-thin lips.

One death eater began to stand on weakened legs, bracing himself against a far wall. "M-m-my Lord…we were out numbered…the lead we had received…it was a lie. The Aurors…they were waiting for us." He cowered like a beaten child sniveling all while he spoke.

**"_CRUCIO!"_**

The man's body contorted and crumbled to the cold stone floor once more. He convulsed upon the floor as if volts upon volts of electricity coursed through his veins.

The whispered voice hissed, "I did not come to you for excuses Wormtail." Angry red eyes became mere slits. "I grow weary of your failures. _All of you._ Time is running short, and the boy gathers an army whilst you all cavort about! The time for desperate measures is nigh."

A woman rushed to his side, falling to her knees before him. "My Lord, say it isn't so! Dumbledore is dead! Surely we aren't in such a dire situation while that meddling wizard lies in a coffin!" She wailed in a nearly inhuman voice as she clawed at his legs.

He lowers a calm hand to her head, curling a strand of her sable hair between to fingers. "_Hush…hush_ my dear Bellatrix…have you no faith in your Lord?"

Bellatrix wrapped two anxious arms around one of his legs, clutching to him as if she would surely die if she were to let go. "Of course I do!"

A jerk of his leg and she was kicked back to the ground with the rest of her comrades. The Dark Lord looked at all of them as if he stumbled upon a writhing nest of vermin.

"What I have learned is that strength, can lie in numbers. And a number of particular interest…is _**three.**_ They now call them the _**'Golden Trio'. **_The **_Boy_** is held up at the apex by the **_two_**. Every one of my attempts at ending Potter's insignificant life is thwarted somehow by the two. I have taken the boy's family…his godfather…_**Dumbledore**…_and yet still he is unrelenting. The Order thrives. He is not alone. We _**must**_ break this trio apart…in any way that we can…"

Fenrir Greyback was first to speak, lust for blood thick in his words. "We _kill_ the _Weasel!_" Saliva began to drip from his gnarled fangs.

The Dark Lord chuckled to himself. "Patience Fenrir. I was thinking more along the lines of the _**girl**__._"

Bellatrix's eyes widen in surprise. "The _**mudblood**?_" She gaped at Lord Voldemort, mouth agape.

Fenrir grumbled in disdain, "The meat of a mudblood is most displeasing."

Hushed whispers littered the air of the once silent room.

"SILENCE!" Bellowed the Dark Lord. "Yes…the Granger girl. She is far more dangerous to us than the Weasel and his entire family combined. She is the key in achieving our grand goal…"

Bellatrix clamors to his feet once more, clutching desperately at his robes. "Surely you don't mean to sully our ranks with that brat's dirty blood. She cannot be trusted! She will _ruin_ us." Her final words nearly a screech.

Voldemort silenced the dark witch with a wave of his hand. "Ah, Ah, Ah! Dear Bella…didn't your mother tell you never to judge a book…by it's cover?" Out of nothingness a dusty tome appeared above Lord Voldemort's open palm. He slowly turned toward the prostrated death eater on the floor; two fingers at her chin to direct her gaze up to his scarlet eyes. "Bella…what if I could give you that which you desire most?"

The dark witch accepted the Dark Lord's open hand and slowly rose to unsteady feet. Her hands came to rest upon her lower abdomen on their own accord. Voldemort's lips nearly grazed the heated flesh of her right ear as he whispered to her; "_I know that you are barren_…" Her ruby lips quivered as large tears began to run down the slope of her chiseled face. "Shhh…my dear Bella…all will be fine…trust in this…you will understand everything…and you'll soon know what you must do…"

And with that, the decrepit book was placed into Bellatrix' eager hands. A devilish grin spread wide across her blood red lips as she read the title upon the book's cover.


	2. The Saddest Summer Ever

**PART I:**** The Calm before…**

_Crack!_ Harry had never gotten the skill of Apparition quite right. In fact, neither had Ron. Both steadied themselves aside a large boulder while waiting for the nausea to subside. Hermione, however, arrived a few minutes after with a faint _pop._

"Stuck in traffic were you?" Ron quipped wiping the sand from his jeans.

"Perhaps, though it seems the two of you have gone through a bit of turbulence." The young witch said with a smile, earning her a pair of rolling eyes from her two companions. Getting their bearings, the trio gazed out upon the open sea before them.

"D'you suppose this is a good idea mate?" Ron turned to Harry, running a hand through his ginger mane; a feeble attempt to tame it. "Given all that has just happened, and the Order sends us away on holiday? I'm sorry, but something doesn't seem right about all of this."

Harry gave a shrug. "Well, they wouldn't take no for an answer. Remus said we'd earned ourselves a retreat…might as well make the best of it."

Hermione nodded in agreement while stretching her arms high above her head. "Some rest would be splendid." She heaved a deep sigh. "And think of it this way; we can use the solitude here to come up with our next course of action. The new term begins in a matter of weeks." Her eyes went wide. "Perhaps that's why they've sent us here of all places!" She gestured toward the cottage that sat at the water's edge; Shell Cottage. "We've been through so much Harry…let's just cherish what little chance for respite we've been afforded."

The trio began to make their way through the dunes in silence. Harry was the first to speak as they drew nearer. "It just seems wrong. And I know I'm not the only one of us who feels that way. Dumbledore is dead, the death eaters are still at large, people are _dying_ and we're here? A coastal retreat?"

Ron placed a reassuring hand upon Harry's back. "C'mon mate, Hermione's right. The Order wouldn't do this for us without good reason. You-Know-Who and his band of cronies haven't been seen near here; we should be safe for now." They neared the front porch of the cottage. "Besides, we won't be alone. Bill's a nutter, but he is a really good time." He grinned.

A fourth voice called out, stopping the trio in their tracks. "And don't forget Miz Fleur Delacour."

Out from the front door stepped Fleur Delacour, her long flaxen hair swaying gently in the breeze, and a timid smile dancing upon her pristine face. Hermione's breath instantly caught in her throat at the sight of the former Beauxbaton dressed in a simple blue sundress. Quickly, Fleur closed the gap between herself and her new arrivals, throwing her arms around each one of them in a gentle, yet firm hug.

"'Arry, Ron…and 'Ermione. You 'ave no idea 'ow 'appy Bill and I are 'zat you are 'ere wiz us. Remus told us of your plans to 'oliday 'ere, and 'eet goes wizout saying, what 'eez ours, 'eez yours!" She gestured toward the cottage with a sweeping of her arms and a slight bow. "Please, come in!"

* * *

Cups of tea were handed out to waiting mouths, each graciously accepting. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat around a small coffee table, each sipping silently from their cups. Fleur returned with a tray of warm biscuits and placed it upon the table. The tender fresh baked smell appeared to ignite something within Ron and he immediately grabbed two of them. Fleur giggled at the sight as she sat down next to Hermione.

"I am not 'zee best cook, but I can manage simple biscuits." Fleur said with a small shrug. Fleur watched with anticipation as Hermione reached over and took a single cookie, bringing the small treat to her lips. The taste was not overwhelming, which was fine for the young witch since she never really craved anything particularly opulent, but it was comforting. A sweet buttery taste lingered long after she swallowed the treat, and she chased it with a few sips of tea. Hermione turned to face Fleur and gave a bright smile.

"Oh don't be so daft. They are delightful Fleur!" Promptly, Hermione reached for a second. The compliment caused the French witch to give a slight blush.

"Mercí beaucoup."

"Fleur, where is Bill?" Crumbs fell like an impending rockslide from Ron's mouth as he looked up at the blonde.

"Oh! 'E shall be 'ome within 'zee 'our I believe. Wiz all 'zat 'as been 'appening recently, 'e 'as 'ad to work longer 'ours at Gringott's. All new accounts 'zat come 'een are under such intense scrutiny. I myself am only 'zere part-time…but you already know 'zat."

"Is he alright?" Asked Ron quietly.

Fleur sighed. "Oui. Still a little shaken from 'zee battle at 'Ogwarts, but you know your bruzzer better 'zan any of us. 'E is a survivor. Just like you three." Fleur's eyes scanned the three faces around her and quickly she realized that the subject should probably be changed. "'Eef you will follow me, I can show you to your rooms…"

* * *

Harry and Ron were given a room facing the open ocean, and Hermione a small study. While the boys were busy unpacking in their chambers, Fleur gave a Hermione a brief tour of the room.

"I remembered 'ow much 'zat you love to read, so I 'ad 'zis study made more comfortable for you." She pointed at a small small twin bed that was situated at the far wall. Many plush cushions lay on top of it.

Hermione absently walked along the bookshelves looking closely at the many books, running her fingers across their spines. She peered back at the French witch who in return gave Hermione a curious look.

"'Eez everyzing alright 'Ermione?"

"Oh yes, quite. Just a little overwhelmed. Did the Order put you and Bill up to this? Housing us, I mean."

Fleur swallowed hard and gave a half smile. "Oui, somewhat. 'Zough I must admit, I was eager for 'zee chance. You three 'ave been 'zrough so much…and well 'zee Order wanted to show you 'zere appreciation…before…"

"Before things get, complicated." Finished Hermione sadly knowing full well the weight of their current situation.

"Oui…" Nodded Fleur. "Uh…well…"

The brunette walked across the room toward the small twin cot, placing her bag upon it. "Fleur are there any shops nearby?"

"Oh yes! A small Muggle village lies not too far from 'ere."

"Tomorrow, would you mind showing me how to get there?"

"Oui but of course!" said Fleur almost a bit too eagerly. "I mean, yes, I can."

Suddenly a jovial, albeit muffled voice could be heard down the hall, followed by the stomping of two pairs of legs broke the silence between the two women. Hermione looked up at Fleur and smiled.

"I suppose that means Bill has returned?" Fleur simply nodded as Hermione rose to her feet. Gently, Hermione gathered Fleur into her arms in a soft hug, resting her chin on the blonde's shoulder. "Thank you so much…" She breathed into Fleur's hair. Fleur tensed instantly at the touch, but soon felt cold as Hermione pulled away and walked down the hall toward the front door.

* * *

"Haha Ronnie m'boy I see you're no worse for wear. And Harry, how're you holding up?" Said Bill casually while had his brother in a chokehold rubbing in a rather nasty noogie.

"Ahh get offa me you bloody git!" Ron wriggled free of Bill's vice-like grip and ran at his brother, arms flailing. Harry soon joined in the fracas, throwing punches and kicks while laughing wildly. Fleur and Hermione walked into the middle of the melee both wearing amused expressions.

The two women looked to each other; "Boys."

Fleur pushed the boys aside. "Come on, let us go to 'zee kitchen we 'ave so much to discuss."

Hermione watched as Fleur gave Bill a small hug and she felt…something within the pit of her stomach, but she quickly shrugged it off as nothing.

"So Remus has told us to keep you here until it is time to return to Hogwarts. Ron, mum already knows. Hermione what about you?"

Hermione looked up from her bowl of soup and shrugged. "Mum and Dad…they're in America…Dental conference." Three pairs of confused eyes looked back at her, with only Harry understanding clearly what she had meant. "You know what? It doesn't matter. They don't really keep up on what I've been doing." The silence persisted in anticipation. Hermione frowned. "I said don't. Worry. About. It." Fleur swallowed hard.

"Right then. Remus must've left out the best part mates!' Continued Bill with a sly smile as he gestured toward the fireplace in the center wall of the living room. The gentle flames soon grew green and turbulent as several people stumbled through it.

Harry, Ron and Hermione stood wide-eyed gaping at the motley group that just stumbled into the cottage via Floo. Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas were first to enter, each clutching a duffle bag. Neville and Luna arrived next, the former barely holding steady a large red cooler.

Neville peered up from behind the enormous cooler. "Umm…surprise?"

Finally followed Lavender and Ginny. Harry immediately leapt to his feet and swept Ginny into his arms in a bone-crushing hug. Their lips crashed together in a hungry kiss as a few tears fell down Ginny's face. Ron pretended to wretch as Bill clapped loudly and guffawed his approval. Hermione simply blushed.

The two lovers looked deeply into each other's eyes. "I…I missed you so much Harry…" Ginny wept. Harry brushed a stray lock behind her ear.

"Don't worry Gin…I'm here."

Hermione watched the tender exchange with a tinge of sadness in her gut. To her left, Ron and Lavender were sharing a quiet conversation, with the red head sheepishly running a hand through his hair every once and a while. To her right, the other guests were exchanging hugs and high fives with Bill before disappearing with their belongings into what Hermione could only assume were the other rooms of the cottage. Harry and Ginny made a quiet retreat hand in hand out the front door, and as if on cue, Ron and Lavender escaped hand in hand through the rear door. All that remained was Fleur, silently looking down at her palms on the couch, her straight golden hair veiling her face.

Hermione stood and began to make her way to the study, only to stop in the doorframe. "Fleur…" She began, instantly grabbing the attention of the French witch. "Would you like to join me in the study?"

"Oui. Let me get anuzzer cup of tea and I will be 'zere in just a moment."

* * *

The dimly lit study was a comfort to the brown haired witch as she sat upon a cushion on the floor. Outside shouts of frivolity and laughter could be heard, intermixed with the gentle crashing of the ocean waves. Her legs were weary, her arms felt as if they were made of lead, and her hair hung limply from her head. It had felt like ages since the last time she could just unwind.

The summer hadn't been too kind to Hermione. The death of Dumbledore weighed heavily on the girl's soul. And beyond that, a failed half-hearted romance with Ron did not make things any better. In fact things had become quite tense between the two of them, often with Harry having to play referee, and nearly every spat always ended with the two refusing to speak to one another.

She could remember it all is if it happened yesterday.

"_You're entirely too boring Hermione. Nose buried in tomes older than Hogwarts itself. You never want to do anything, let alone spend time with me."_

"_Well __**Ronald**__ perhaps I seek more stimulating conversation beyond the Chudley Cannon's latest injury report! You can be so thick sometimes! At least my novels don't judge me." He approached her, placing a hand on her waist, rubbing in small circles. She promptly swatted it away. "Not now. I'm not in the mood."_

"_You never are Hermione. Come on…" He gestured toward his room. "After a few minutes it'll be as if we never had this argument. I promise." He gave a lopsided grin before nipping at the supple skin of her neck._

"_No." A gentle shove and Ron stumbled into the far wall. But he came toward her once more smashing his lips against hers. "Mmmph…I said NO!" **Smack!** Hermione's hand slapped him hard across the face. A red welt began to blossom on his face as he gave her a dubious look._

"_Hermione! Bloody hell!"_

_Tears streamed down her face as she whispered. "Please…Ron…just go. It's over."_

The memories ceased when Hermione felt a new sensation on the back of her neck. Fleur was now sitting behind her and was deftly braiding her long brown hair. A small gasp escaped the young witch's lips as Fleur finished.

"'Zere we go. You 'air kept falling 'een your face ma belle. Sorry I couldn't resist. Your 'air 'eez so soft." Fleur cooed.

Hermione blushed slightly. "Thank you, it's so unruly sometimes. I never know what to do with it."

Fleur clucked. "I could run my fingers 'zrough 'eet all day!" Hermione instantly tensed, but eased shortly thereafter.

"I'd like that." She smiled.

"So what 'eez 'eet 'zat you're reading?" Fleur peered at the cover of the novel resting in the younger witch's lap. "_'Zee Picutre of Dorian Gray'_?"

"Oh this? A muggle novel of merit, by the author Oscar Wilde. I've had it stowed away in a bookshelf at home, and it had been collecting dust to be honest." She flipped through its pages. "I've had my nose buried in so many magical books as of late, I've nearly forgotten how enchanting muggle written works are. I've brought a few other books as well." Hermione used her wand to summon a small messenger bag and rifled through it's contents once it was upon her lap. Fleur leaned in close, peering over Hermione's shoulder with great interest. "Moby Dick, Pride and Prejudice, Sherlock Holmes, Little Women…enough to last me the final weeks of the summer."

Fleur reached for the copy of Moby Dick and looked through the pages. Her eyes went wide as she held the book aloft for Hermione. "'Ermione, 'zees pictures…'zey do not move!"

"Of course not Fleur! In the muggle world pictures are…frozen…they do not move. It's a piece of a memory. Surely you knew of that Fleur!"

The blonde witch peered off looking nowhere in particular, blushing lightly. "I do not 'ave much experience wiz muggles."

"Sometimes I feel as though I'm losing touch with my muggle side."

"What do you mean?"

"Magic…at least discovering it…has made us as human beings soft. Let us assume I am wandering alone in a vast barren desert…if I were a muggle it'd behoove me to seek water, shelter, _anything_...if I don't find it, I would be dead within a matter of hours. But as a witch it's just a flick…" She held her wand aloft, performed the aforementioned flick and muttered _"Aguamenti"_ And a small stream of water poured from the tip of the wand, dribbling into Fleurs open palm. "Magic…has made this possible."

"So you would survive! You'd be able to make 'eet back; apparate for 'elp."

"But what if I didn't have my wand? What then Fleur? Magic has made us soft. And the ministry…they won't let us do anything for the Muggles. They would try and throw me in Azkaban for giving a dying muggle man water from thin air."

"Well…'zere 'eez wandless magic non?"

Hermione smiled and reached behind her for another cushion to offer Fleur. "You're missing my point Fleur…but that's alright. Come, let's read Moby Dick. You'll love it, I promise!"

The blonde witch happily obliged, leaning against Hermione's shoulder. The small china teacup was clasped in her hands.

Hermione took a quick sip from her own teacup and began: "Call me Ishmael…"

* * *

A/N: Yeah, yeah, yeah I took the easy way out with explaining Ron and Hermione's breakup. R&R if you like. :P

'til next time, ttfn, tata for now!


	3. Beachside Daydream

**A/N:** Thanks for the great reviews new friends o' mine! I'm in an extremely good mood as I did really well in my road race this weekend (I'm an avid runner!), and felt motivated to publish the next chapter of this story.

And an FYI, I won't pretend to be an accomplished English major…(I actually work in a pharmaceutical lab full-time) and I know that my writing style might follow vaguely like an essay. So, I'm sorry if it's bothersome. I was conflicted for a bit wondering if I needed to throw in another detail here…a clarification there, but soon came to realize I should just stick with my gut.

Yes…this will eventually become a dark-fic, and the rating will likely change to M, but remember, you can't have the dark without the light. )

OK. Enough rambling. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:**Neither Harry Potter or Moby Dick are mine.

* * *

Hermione's eyes fluttered open, tickled by the sunlight now seeping in through the windows. The room was bathed in luminous sunshine which warmed the two bodies resting against the bed. She felt a slight weight as her eyes focused upon Fleur's slumbering form, sprawled across her lap. Hermione's hands acted on their own accord as she gently held a silken lock of golden blonde hair in her fingers. They had made it through the first few chapters of the novel, each taking a turn to read aloud. The once believed to be haughty Frenchwoman sat with rapt attention to every detail and they found themselves having a deep discussion or two over some nuances they came across while reading. Fleur also often asked Hermione to stop and explain a word or phrase. This was not uncommon for Hermione back at Hogwarts, with her classmates coming to her in droves for help with essays and it often exacerbated her. However this time she found it not only endearing…but oddly flattering.

A light tapping at a windowpane broke her reverie. From behind the glass Bill smiled and waved as Hermione turned to look at him. Her eyes darted back down to Fleur, who was sleepily repositioning, and back to the elder Weasley in the window. Bill didn't seem to notice or care, in fact he gave her a warm smile.

"We're cooking breakfast outside on the beach 'Mione. Come and join!"

Hermione gave a warm smile and lightly nudged Fleur. "Wake up sunshine…" She cooed.

Fleur's eyes slowly fluttered to life and she absently stretched her long lithe body like a cat. Her dreaming face suddenly burned up in utter embarrassment at their current sleeping arrangements. "Oh my…'Ermione! _Désolé_!" She quickly scrambled off of Hermione.

The brunette stifled a laugh. "Honestly Fleur it's alright, we both fell asleep. It had been a long day for both of us…really." She stood and extended a hand to the French witch. "Come now, Bill has cooked breakfast outside!" Fleur gently placed her soft hand in Hermione's and their fingers intertwined. The brunette suddenly stiffened at the contact, as if lightning coursed up her spine. Carefully, she pulled the blonde to her feet and gazed back into Fleur's deep blue eyes.

Fleur blushed and gave a sheepish smile. "Do you 'zink…we can do 'zis again tonight?"

Hermione suddenly smiled broadly. "Of course!"

* * *

They decided to go barefoot across the sand, relishing in the silty softness between their toes. Their companions were sitting around a roaring fire, each with a full plate of eggs and sausage. Luna passed around a large bowl brimming with fruit, while Seamus helped pour everyone cups of piping hot tea.

Bill looked toward the two approaching women and beamed. "_Accio_ beach chairs!" And as if from nothing, two chairs appeared in the sand next to the group. Fleur and Hermione each took a seat and helped themselves to some food.

"Morning to you both!" Bill shot a knowing look to Fleur...and what Hermione could've sworn was a wink. "Sleep well did you?"

Fleur shyly nodded.

Aware of the newcomers, Ron looked up from his seat at the two women and scoffed. "Did 'Mione put you to sleep with one of her novels Fleur?" He earned a few chuckles here and there in response.

Hermione, taken aback by his inimical outburst, frowned and rolled her eyes, suppressing the urge to snap back at Ron. Fleur however was unfazed by the obvious derisive nature of Ron's question. "Non, quite 'zee contrary. 'Ermione fell asleep first."

Ron huffed and returned his attention to Lavender, who was seated next to him upon a blanket, absently eating a strawberry.

"So," started Bill with a mouthful of eggs. "What's the plan for today?"

Seamus jumped up, "I dunno about you mates, but I'm thinking a beach-side Qudditch match! Losers have to make tonight's supper!"

Harry stifled a laugh. "Alright, but only if I get Neville on my team." This comment caught Neville off-guard who had a mouthful of food and wore an extremely confused look upon his face. Everyone started laughing.

Bill turned to Ron, "And what about you? Who do you claim?"

Ron gave a huge smile. "Seamus m'boy."

"I take Ginny!" Shouted Harry, followed by a wolf whistle from Bill. Ginny leapt to her feet and threw her arms around Harry lovingly.

"Right then…I pick…Dean!"

Harry pointed at the elder Weasley. "Bill!"

"Lavender!"

"Luna!"

That left only Hermione and Fleur; each looking to each other and back to the group. No one said anything. After an awkward eternity Ron finally pointed toward the French Witch, "We need a score keeper, would you do it Fleur?"

Fleur looked to Hermione who wore an unreadable expression on her face. "Don't worry about me Fleur, I'm used to this. Go have fun." She deadpanned as she began to stand up.

Fleur's nimble fingers quickly grasped Hermione's wrist and pulled the younger girl's ear close to her lips. "'Zee town 'eez called Tidewater. Use 'zee Floo to get 'zere." Hermione nodded and mouthed a thanks.

With that the brunette rose fully to her feet and began to walk back toward the cottage. Unbeknownst to Hermione, Fleur felt her heart lurch within her chest for the young witch.

"Ron, you git, how could you not include Hermione?" said Harry, furrowing his brow in anger.

"Harry she's _useless_ in Quidditch, and besides, you _know_ she hates it. Just let her be mate. She'll come back, I'm sure of it. Probably went off to read or something." He turned toward the dunes, using his wand to summon equipment for their game, but everyone else remained glued to where they were standing. He looked at them with a frown. "C'mon mates, let it be!"

* * *

The small village of Tidewater was a quaint seaside community. Hermione serenely strolled down the sunbathed cobblestone streets, relishing in the warm sunlight that broke through the myriad of trees lining the shantytown's streets. Nearly everyone she passed was on foot, a bicycle, or a skateboard...all smiling and waving to one another; striking up conversations about various goings-on. Hermione smiled at the idyllic lives around her, seemingly untouched by the gathering storm that was Lord Voldemort. It warmed her deep inside. Passing by the many shop windows, she stopped in a few to take a closer look at their wares.

She soon rounded a corner to arrive at a small surf shop. Feeling curious, she entered and was greeted by the clerk; a young man with sandy blonde hair who appeared to be no older that 25.

"Welcome to Tidewater Sun Sports. How may I help you today Miss?" He said in a hearty voice.

"Oh, just perusing."

"Right, well if you need anything be sure to give a shout!"

The tiny store was filled to the brim with various Surfboards, wakeboards, wetsuits and bathing suits. Running her fingertips along the curve of one of the many boards Hermione's mind wandered back to the times when she would accompany her parents to the shore on holiday. Her father had once given her a small board to float in the waves with, and she recalled the sheer joy she felt while being gently rocked and swayed by the ebb and flow of the sea. She loved to swim, and not many knew it. However the trips to the coasts became fewer and fewer as Hermione began her schooling at Hogwarts. After a while her parents would just go without her, always following each apology with 'perhaps next time'. A pang of sadness in her heart brought her back to reality as she spied a cherry red long board on the clearance rack.

"Sir, how much for this red one?" She gestured toward the longboard.

"Ahh good choice! Nice finish, should give you a stable ride...that one over there will run you…oh 200 gall..I mean to say, 125 pounds." He gulped.

Hermione raised and eyebrow and smiled. "Galleons did you say? I think I can certainly manage 200 for the board."

The frazzled clerk ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair. "Not a muggle then are ye? Never can be too careful, guess I just got lucky this time." He produced a wand from his pocket and nimbly summoned the board toward the counter. "I've never seen you around here before, are you visiting?"

"Yes, just spending a few weeks by the shore before the start of next term."

"Do ya go to Hogwarts per chance?" He asked.

Hermione nodded. "Getting ready to start my 7th year. To be honest, I can't wait to be done."

The clerk smiled while shrinking the nearly 10 foot long board to the size of a pencil, placing it neatly inside of a paper bag. "I graduated from there nearly five years ago. Was a Ravenclaw meself!" He beamed proudly, while turning to motion at a small Ravenclaw plaque on the wall behind him.

"Gryffindor."

The clerk gave another broad smile. "Good for you lass! Now will this be all for you today?"

Hermione turned and took one last look across the cluttered shop, and pulled out her wand when she spied a book resting on the far wall. Summoning it to her hands she read its cover, _'Water Riding: The Curious Muggle Sport of Surfing'_.

"This too please."

"Ahh good book! Probably the only book of it's kind in our world. Guess they don't really teach much about surfing at Hogwarts nowadays do they?"

Hermione shrugged but soon grinned broadly. "I suppose not, but if they did, I'd totally take it."

"Wicked!"

* * *

In the evening Hermione and Fleur huddled close together reading through the next few chapters of Moby Dick by candlelight. The brunette silently sipped from a cup of ice water while Fleur's dulcet voice read the words aloud.

"Truly to enjoy bodily warmth, some small part of you must be cold, for 'zere 'eez no quality in 'zees world 'zat 'eez not what 'eet 'eez merely by contrast." Fleur paused for a moment before continuing. "Nothing exists 'een 'eetself. 'Eef you flatter yourself 'zat you are all over comfortable, and 'ave been so for a long time, 'zen you cannot be said to be comfortable any more." Fleur paused a second time, processing the words.

"Are you alright Fleur?"

Fleur absently rapped her fingers on the page, deep in thought. "Oui. I am sorry…just a bit sleepy I suppose. 'Zee Quidditch match today was exhausting."

Hermione placed a hand between Fleur's shoulder blades softly nudging her to stand up. "Let's pick up where we left off tomorrow night then?"

Fleur would not budge, and after a minute or two her head snapped to face the younger witch. "'Ermione, I 'zink 'eets terrible 'zee way Ronald treated you earlier today! I wanted to…to smack 'im upside 'zee 'ead for 'ow 'e was talking about you!"

Hermione chuckled at the blonde's apparent anger. "Honestly Fleur I take it all with a grain of salt. Things are a little stressed between us, but it's all right really, time heals all wounds does it not? Your concern doesn't go without my appreciation." She brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Though I am glad to know someone out there cares for my feelings."

Fleur was aghast at the younger witch's words. She fell to her knees in front of Hermione, easing the brunette's chin upwards to look her directly in the eyes. "Why say such a terrible 'zing 'Ermione!"

The brunette swallowed hard. "I suppose it's hard being the third wheel of the so-called_** 'Golden Trio'.**_" Her eyes flitted to anywhere but the blonde witch's unconvinced blue ones.

"But a trio means three…_equally_ non? You three 'ave accomplished great feats 'zat an ordinary person could only _dream_ of doing!"

Their gazes locked before Hermione brought her head down. "Yes I know that, but look outside, they all gather like moths to flame around Harry, and Ron is his best friend right at his side. Me? I don't even know where I fit in to that equation. _The bookish one. The bossy one. Books this, library that_. Merlin Fleur, I can't tell you how much I yearn for all of this to finally end. Have the war end and just move on with my life…have everything just be normal." Hermione bit her lip as the tears started to well in her eyes. "The last time we were normal was the train ride in our first year, when we all met for the first time. Just three misfits we were…and still are."

"'Ermione what 'appened between you and Ron?" Probed the French witch in a sober voice with a single raised well-manicured eyebrow.

The words were difficult to form, and Hermione forced them out. "I-I thought…that I loved him…which I still do…but not in the way that I believed at the time." She paused a beat. "We began dating at the end of sixth year, and through most of this summer. I think I craved the attention more than Ron himself…which reflecting back on that time, I can't help but feel as if I owe him some sort of apology…I cannot blame his anger with me."

Fleur inched closer, wrapping comforting arms around the younger witch, pulling her into a close hug on her lap. Hermione turned into Fleur's blonde locks suppressing the impending tears.

"'Eetz OK 'Ermione, we don't 'ave to talk about 'zis 'eef you are not comfortable. Perhaps anuzzer day 'zen. Get some rest tonight ma puce. 'Zings will get better, I promise."

* * *

Underneath the rays morning sun, Hermione sat cross-legged atop a beach blanket by the water, wearing a blue two-piece bathing suit. "_Water Riding"_ was open on her lap, currently in one of its early chapters. She was surprised that the book was even magical as its first few chapters explaining how to surf did not mention wands or incantations at all. In fact she soon came to realize it was more of a history book detailing the lives of water-adept Wizards who had mastered the art of riding the waves.

"_Engorgio"_ Mumbled Hermione, standing as the tiny toy surfboard grew to its normal size. Placing her wand as a bookmark between the pages of the book, she tied her long auburn mane back into a neat bun, and bent down to secure the board's leash to her right ankle. With the board tucked under her left arm she waded slowly into the water. Reaching a sufficient depth, she laid herself atop of it and her arms dipped into the water and she began to paddle further away from shore. After a few minutes of fighting against the surf she sat upright massaging her now aching forearms. She could hear Ron's nagging voice in her head and furiously paddled once more at the sound. Sitting upright, rocking gently in the water, she stretched her arms and gazed back at the picturesque cottage nestled comfortably among the dunes.

A large wave began to pull at the board and quickly she laid flat on her belly. As if the ocean had hands with which to push her, Hermione could feel the board begin to move forward with the current. Leaping up to her feet she was carried for a short distance before being knocked off balance and her body slammed painfully headfirst into the board. The pain exploded like a rocket in her left eye and finally she was thrown into the water. Hermione sputtered and scrambled back atop the board gasping for breath. Her left eye socket throbbed for a few moments…she knew that it'd only be a matter of minutes before her face would erupt into a pallet of black and blue. But this notion, as well as the pain, was quickly shrugged off. A few more attempts yielded the same exact result; Hermione was tossed about like a child's toy by the waves.

"Alright…let's try this again...one last time." She was nearly exhausted.

Hermione drug her hands through the water once more, clawing her way further from the shore, the board being rocked wildly by the incoming waves. Her arms began to groan in protest when she finally decided to stop and wait once more. The sun felt glorious on her skin, warming her throughout.

Immediately the waves began to pick up once more as a much larger crest was approaching rapidly from behind her. Steadying herself, Hermione began to pull at the water furiously picking up as much speed as her muscles could muster. The board steadied itself and locked into the trajectory of the wave. With great concentration the young witch balanced herself on her haunches and stood tall, her left foot ahead of the right.

And for the first time that morning, she didn't fall.

The resulting adrenaline rush was nothing short of exhilarating as the young witch guided the surfboard effortlessly across the waves. Uproarious laughter erupted from her throat as she continued her spirited glide across the water. She attempted a sharp jump turn as the wave began to crash and ended up being flung unceremoniously from the board. The surfboard came to rest upon the sand and Hermione swam back ashore. She ran to the blanket and without delay she flopped down upon it, utterly exhausted, but laughing all throughout.

She rolled over grabbing the book and her wand aiming it at the board, "_Reducio._" And she deftly placed the now diminutive board in the left cup of her bikini top. Voices could be heard emerging from the cottage, growing ever louder as she could now see Harry and Seamus sprinting through the sand as a football flew down the porch of the cottage toward them. Harry got to the ball first and began to dribble across the beach toward Hermione. A broad smile grew on his face as he spied the young witch sitting on her blanket. "Think fast Hermione!" And the ball was launched by a strong kick and it sliced through the air, hurtling directly toward her head. For a split second she considered using her wand, clutched tightly in her right hand, to stun the ball. Instead she tossed the wand aside and caught the ball in her arms as it finally collided painfully into her chest. Nearly having the wind knocked out of her, she was thrown back onto the sand, still clutching on to the ball tightly. Harry sprinted to her side, reaching over to brace the back of her head with his hand. "H-Hermione…you alright? That was quite a catch you made!"

"Nice one 'Mione!" Yelled Dean from a distance.

Hermione groaned with discomfort. "No harm done Harry. Really. Just took me by surprise." She slowly got to her unsteady feet, bracing herself on Harry's shoulder. At that moment Ginny had closed the short distance to them but skidded to a halt as she spied Hermione's bruised face.

"Wow 'Mione…that's quite a shiner you've got there!" Laughed Ginny.

Fleur, who seemed to appear out of nowhere, was the next to arrive tensing instantly at the sight of Hermione's rapidly forming black eye. "Mon Dieu!" Her spindly hands flew up to cup Hermione's face. "What did you do to your face 'Ermione!"

Harry and Ginny looked on with close attention; often times it was Harry or Ron who'd end up bruised or scraped with no apparent reason.

"Slipped on the porch this morning." Hermione lied. "Smarted a little but it's nothing I can't handle."

Fleur wasn't satisfied with her answer.

"Non. Come wiz me, I shall get you some ice" The brunette shrugged in defeat and allowed herself to be dragged by the blonde witch back toward the house.

* * *

Fleur was furiously digging through the icebox while Hermione stretched out across the small daybed in the living room. Fleur returned moments later holding a bundle of ice with a small towel. She sat on the soft cushions up by Hermione's torso and gently pressed the ice to the swollen eye on the brunette's face.

"Now 'zat were are alone, 'Ermione, tell me 'zee truth. 'Ow did you do 'zis to your pretty face?"

"I told you. I slipped on the front porch."

"And managed to give yourself a black eye? 'Zee 'Ermione I know is not so uncoordinated 'zat she would lose control of 'er own two feet!"

Hermione winced as Fleur applied slightly more pressure to her aching eye socket. That was enough to get her to come out with the truth. "Ouch! All right, all right, all right…I was out surfing, and hit my head on the board."

"You were what?" Fleur had cocked her head to the side, much like an inquisitive puppy. The display made the younger witch chuckle lightly.

"Surfing, Fleur, surely you've heard of surfing."

Fleur furrowed her brow. "Non. What 'eez 'zis _zurfing_ you speak of?"

"It's a muggle activity. You ride on top of the ocean waves by standing on a surfboard."

"Couldn't you just use a spell for 'zat?"

"I _could_ but where is the challenge in that? This was only my first day, I plan on going back out in the surf tomorrow morning." She gently took the compress from Fleur's eager hands and sat up.

"Please ma puce…promise me you'll be more careful…'eet may just be your eye today…but next time 'eet could be your arm or leg!" Her other hand came to rest upon Hermione's opposite cheek, her thumb tenderly grazing the soft skin.

Hermione tensed for a moment at the touch and gave the blonde witch a curious look. "You know…you've…you've been awful nice to me since we arrived here two days ago. From what I recall we weren't always on such good terms."

Fleur turned away and blushed deeply.

Hermione sat up and leaned closer to the blonde witch in an attempt to penetrate her line of sight. She spoke in a light-teasing manner. "In fact I distinctly remember getting quite irate over some bouillabaisse."

"Oui…'zee bouillabaisse…" Fleur murmured.

"And how just about every male at Hogwarts would nearly faint in your presence?"

Fleur suddenly became defensive. "'Zat 'eezn't my fault…my 'zrall…"

"And how brilliant you were in the tournament."

Fleur gaped at the brown haired witch in amazement, and Hermione simply smiled. The blonde's jaw went slack as the words would not come to her lips.

After a brief eternity the blonde audibly cleared her throat and began. "I…I suppose I like you 'Ermione. I 'ave always wanted to get to know you better. I know 'ow I must appear on 'zee outside to everyone but I promise you I am deeper 'zan 'zat. When I first saw you at 'Ogwarts, I admit I was a bit put off by your temper…but after awhile, when I saw 'ow you selflessly came to 'Arry's aid time and again…I began to grow…jealous of you. Beauxbatons and my culture as a whole, places so much emphasis on ones outward appearance to uzzers. And mind you I know 'Ogwarts was not wizout 'zat pressure eizzer, but despite all of 'zat you carry yourself 'een your own unique way, regardless of what anyone says or 'zinks." Fleur swallowed hard. "'Zat takes courage and confidence…and sadly I lack both at 'zee moment. I admire you for 'eet, and 'ave wanted to call you my friend since...'Aving you 'ere 'as given me a chance to finally get to know you…"

"And?"

"And...I regret none of it…as I find you to be fascinating 'Ermione Granger!"

"So your kindness is truly not the byproduct of my so-called friends abandoning me since we arrived?" Hermione smirked.

"_Merde!_ Non 'Ermione! Quite 'zee opposite! You see, 'zee Weasley's…'zey despise moi…or so I suspect. I suppose in 'zat instance I felt we 'ad somezing 'een common 'ere." She shrugged.

"The Weasleys have apparently adopted Harry and I as their surrogate children…and well, Harry is most certainly the favorite."

"Molly 'zinks I am a bad 'eenfluence on Bill. And she certainly does not approve of our marriage."

Hermione's face contorted in confusion. "I don't understand why Molly ever think such a preposterous thing. You both have built a lovely home life together! Bill seems perfectly normal and very happy!"

"Oui…'zat 'e 'ees, but 'zere 'eez a bit more to 'zis story. And I promise to tell you soon, but for now you need your rest ma belle." Fleur stood up and made her way toward the front door. "Join us for lunch outside soon will you?"

Hermione, snuggling deeper into the cushions of the daybed gave a contented sigh and nodded. It was a matter of minutes before she had fallen into a contented slumber.

* * *

til next time...ttfn tata for now!


	4. Fast as You Can

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who reviewed…and woot 1500+ views in less than 4 days! (I'm not sure if that's great but it made me really, really happy nonetheless!) I'm on a roll here so here's the next chapter...and its a _long_ one. Hopefully you guys will get some answers!

Oh and about the surfing…just another quirk I pictured our dearest Hermione to possess. ;)

* * *

Once again Hermione was out in the morning sun swimming a furious crawl stroke through the bounding waves. Her arms dug deep through the churning water, despite objection from her aching muscles. She kept fighting, her arms slicing strongly through the current. Exhaustion best summed all she was feeling right now; not exactly physical fatigue despite her efforts in the water, but moreso an emotional exhaustion. It left her emotionally drained.

The previous night proved to be an awkward one as stories of relationships, bad make-out sessions and the like were exchanged around the bonfire on the beach.

_Harry and Ginny were practically conjoined at the hips to Hermione; the way they had clung on to one another seemed as if they let go the other might plunge to their death. Lavender sat straddling Ron's lap, her arms linked around his neck. Hermione could start to feel bile rise in her throat as she watched Lavender kiss and nip repeatedly at Ron's neck, and then giggle coyly. Neville and Luna however, Hermione found delightfully awkward, as they simply decided to hold hands, and occasionally Neville would muster the courage to plant a small kiss on Luna's cheek. Seamus and Dean spoke highly of their respective loved ones, sparing no details about make-out sessions gone awry. Curiously, Fleur and Bill sat across from each other, both smiling and nodding during the conversation but neither volunteered anything about their relationship; to a stranger, they might have just seemed to be acquaintances. Finally when it came to Hermione's romantic exploits, she simply said, "As the Americans say, 'I plead the fifth.'"_

"_Come on 'Mione, surely you can spill some gory details about your time with Weasley!" Seamus laughed._

_Hermione looked at Ron and Lavender, now snogging, completely oblivious to the conversation at hand. The sight disgusted her. She was never one for gratuitous snogging in public._

_She began loudly. "Well I suppose I would be remiss if I contributed nothing to this conversation…gory details was it? There was that one time he took me out to Honeydukes, made the mistake of indiscriminately eating an entire fistful of Bertie Bott's beans and then proceeding to rather brutishly shove his tongue down my throat. Needless to say, it was a kiss I'd never forget. It was nearly a week before all of the food I'd eat stopped tasting like earwax." She said with a smirk, earning hearty laughter from the rest of her friends. "Oh and the other time he thought it'd be a great idea to snog in a broom closet…"_

"_All right…that's enough 'Mione." Ron said with a nervous laugh. Lavender simply stared daggers at Hermione but she was unaffected._

"_In fact, I quite enjoy being single." Said the brown haired witch with a huff._

"_Good, because odds are you'll be that way for a long time. You're insufferable Hermione! Completely barking you are!" Snapped Ron, brows furrowed. His words visibly stung Hermione, and she recoiled at the sound._

_Harry intervened. "C'mon mate, you know you don't mean that."_

"_Whattya mean? O'course I do! I lived it! Like dating your bloody mother that one is! Stuffy, pompous, and never wants to do anything but read and study!" He pointed a finger at Hermione. "You might as well date yourself Granger!"_

_With that Hermione had stood and stormed back to the cottage, tears threatening to pour from her eyes. No one moved a muscle until Fleur began to follow her shouting all the way, but the brunette simply chose to ignore her. As Fleur picked up her pace, Hermione promptly raced into the study and slammed the door shut behind her. A locking spell was murmured from her lips and she flung herself onto her bed and began to weep. Fleur lingered outside the door knocking. _

_A weak voice came from the door. "Please Fleur…I just want to be alone right now…please…just leave me alone."_

And here she was, back out in the churning waves, the water's cold embrace bringing the harsh sting of reality. She was alone.

"'Ermione!" Came a shout from the beach. Hermione stopped to tread water and peered out in the direction of the voice. Fleur was waving an arm frantically in the air, her broad smile gleaming in the early morning sun. A large blue wool blanket was draped across her shoulders and clutched in her other arm was a wicker basket. The brunette could feel her heart swell in her chest at the sight. She began to swim back to shore and Fleur took a moment to spread out the blanket. Hermione jogged the short distance from the water and happily sat cross-legged upon the blanket across from Fleur.

"_Accio towel_" said the brunette, holding open her right palm as her fluffy white towel slowly came to rest in it.

"Mon Dieu 'Ermione! You can perform wandless magic?"

Wrapping the towel tightly around her body, Hermione blushed and gave a small nod. "Just some of the simpler spells. I discovered I could perform summoning without a wand quite by accident earlier this summer. At my parent's house, my room is a bit of a mess…and upon word that we were going to holiday here I went to my dresser drawer to retrieve my wand only to discover it wasn't there. I must've turned my room upside down to find it, and in a fit of exasperation with my fruitless search I openly complained that it'd be fantastic to just say _Accio wand._ And it suddenly fell into my open hand!"

"'Zat 'eez wonderful! I can perform one or two wandless spells myself, but nuzzing as practical as summoning I'm afraid. I still need my wand for 'zat."

"I've found it's particularly useful to have a strong emotional connection to the specific spell…that, coupled with intense concentration. It took me hours of practice to summon things larger than my wand." Hermione spied the wicker basket next to Fleur's hip with great curiosity. "Might I be so bold to ask what you've got in the basket?"

"Oh! I brought you breakfast, as you missed 'eet yesterday!" She reached into the basket and produced a plate, setting it in front of the younger witch. Upon the plate she placed two pieces of toast; each with a perfectly fried egg in its center and much to Hermione's delight, they were still hot. Fleur then produced a small chilled carafe, filled to the brim with fresh squeezed orange juice. "I attempted to make, how you say, eggs-een-a-basket, non? 'Eetz not much, but I 'ope 'eet will at least give you enough energy to tackle 'zee waves 'zis morning."

Hermione brought the crisp bread to her lips and took a bite. It was perfect; not too burnt, not too much butter, and the yolk was done medium. Her eyes bulged at their sockets at the taste. "Mmm, Merlin Fleur, this is wonderful. How did you know how I like this?"

Fleur blushed. "I did some research…well I asked 'Arry."

"This is divine Fleur! But you really needn't worry yourself with this! I _did_ help myself to an apple this morning." Hermione said between bites and absently she dipped the toast in some of the yolk that had dripped onto the plate. Fleur could only smile at the sight.

"'Eet was no trouble at all. I wanted to do 'eet."

Hermione handed the other slice of toast to the French witch, who reluctantly waved her hands in front of her face. "Oh non 'Ermione, 'eet 'ees all for you! I couldn't…"

Hermione broke a corner off of the toast and gently dipped it into the yolk. Extending her lithe arm she held the morsel at Fleur's lips. "At least have a bite. It is delicious…much too delicious for just one person to enjoy." Fleur hesitated for a moment before opening her mouth to accept the offer. Hermione nimbly placed the morsel onto the French witch's tongue and shuddered at the warmth she suddenly felt as Fleur's lips closed around her fingers. And she nearly convulsed as the blonde drew the rest of the yolk from Hermione's fingertips with a gentle, yet firm suck. The brown haired witch felt something quake in the pit of her gut as a single bead of sweat ran down her forehead, her tongue tied in a knot.

Fleur, who also appeared slightly flushed, chewed slowly. "You are right…'eet does taste good. Sometimes I surprise myself!" Hermione nearly knocked the carafe over as she felt the urge to slake her suddenly parched mouth and steady her ragged breathing at the same time. The cool citrus calmed her nerves for a moment before she returned her attention to the blonde witch.

"So…uh, how about I show you what Surfing is?"

And with those words the French woman's eyes widened like a child on Boxing Day.

"Oh oui! Allow me a few minutes to put on my suit!"

* * *

The days soon fell into a routine for Hermione. Rising early in the morning to swim in the tides, she would be joined later by Fleur for a waterside meal. She would return to the ocean a few hours more while on the surfboard. The afternoons at first were spent with her friends but soon after she opted to join Fleur for tea on the porch. And the evenings found her with Fleur once more, working their way through one of Hermione's muggle novels. Hermione couldn't describe what exactly that was happening, but she found herself drawn to the French witch; completely intrigued by all she was. In fact she even began to long for her while trying, and often failing to sleep at night.

This particular morning Hermione had decided that it was finally time for Fleur to learn how to surf.

Fleur swam alongside Hermione as she paddled the surfboard out to a suitable distance. Once they stopped Hermione reached over to pull the blonde on top of the board with her. Two protective arms encircled around Fleur's waist as Hermione attempted to settle the blonde's nerves.

"It's OK Fleur, stay calm…now that we've paddled out this far, we wait for a good swell."

"Un…swell?"

Hermione smiled. "We will start to feel the incoming wave that we will try to ride…first it will pull us backwards. Once that happens we prepare for it by lying flat on the belly." Hermione tenderly placed an open palm across Fleur's firm stomach. "And we start to stroke with both arms…" Her other hand came to rest lightly on Fleur's left bicep. The muscle quivered under Hermione's touch, and Hermione could just barely hear the French woman's breath catch in her throat. "When you start to gain speed you'll bring your legs forward to rest on your haunches…" The hand upon Fleur's arm slid down to her milky thigh. "And carefully stand up. Guide the board with your hips."

The brunette slid into the water but still held on to the board as Fleur positioned herself on her belly. "I should lay…like 'zis?"

"Excellent!" Hermione continued to tread water until she felt the familiar tug of the incoming wave. "Do you feel that Fleur? There's a good one coming your way, start paddling! I'll be swimming behind you, start paddling go!" With a gentle shove Hermione sent Fleur forward.

"_Merde!"_ Fleur felt her speed increase as the board skimmed the top of the water.

"Stand up!" Screamed Hermione from a distance.

On unsteady feet Fleur managed to stand and held her arms wide to balance. "'Ermione! Do you see me! I am doing 'eet!"

Hermione whistled and whooped from behind, cheering loudly for the French woman.

Fleur's ride was cut short as she toppled over into the water. Hermione smirked and began her swim toward where Fleur went under. The board floated by itself, bobbing aimlessly in the water. The younger witch was only about three meters distance from the board before concern started to nag in the pit of her stomach when the blonde hadn't surfaced yet. Heart pounding, Hermione picked up speed and dove under the water. Attempting to open her eyes, all she could see was a thick soupy cloud swirling around Fleur's limp body sinking to the seafloor.

Blood.

Wrapping an arm around Fleur's waist she used her free arm to claw her way through the current to the surface. Her lungs burned as she broke the surface gasping for air. Fleur did not stir, blood still slowly seeping from a deep gash above her left eye. Hermione frantically looked from left to right, there was no one in sight. She began a furious sidestroke for the shore, clutching on tightly to the nearly deadweight French woman with every ounce of her strength.

She dragged Fleur's lifeless body a safe distance from the water across the sand, and immediately felt her neck for a pulse.

The soft artery of Fleur's neck weakly thrummed under Hermione's fingers. "Thank Merlin!" it was faint, but Fleur still wasn't breathing, her skin growing paler by the second. She raked her brain trying to remember the spell with which unblock a person's airwave, but try as she might the incantation just wouldn't come. Fleur's face was growing paler by the second.

With great precision the young witch positioned Fleur flat on her back, and tilted her head back. Pinching the bridge of Fleur's nose, Hermione brought her mouth to Fleur's and pushed air from deep in her lungs into the blonde. She pressed both hands into the apex of Fleur's ribcage and pumped hard against it with her palms. She repeated the process a few times over until Fleur finally came to and sputtered loudly. Water poured from her open mouth. She immediately sat up and coughed furiously, her hands clasped around her neck. Hermione backed away and ran a sandy hand through her damp hair. After her coughing fit subsided Fleur brought a finger to her lips and gaped at the brown haired witch.

Hermione stammered, "Fleur…I'm so, so sorry…are you alright?" She said sheepishly.

Her reply was a bone-crushing hug from Fleur and lips pressed hard against her own. Her heart instantly throbbed in her chest at the sensation of Fleur's pillow soft lips. She was rendered dumbstruck.

Fleur quickly pulled away and smiled weakly at Hermione's stunned expression, lips still pursed, eyelids halfway closed. "You saved me mon ange!"

Hermione gestured at the top of her head. Fleur mimicked the movement and winced at the touch and the sight of blood on her fingertips. "I suppose I will need some ice and dressings…"

"Fleur…I…" Hermione opened her mouth to speak but was cut short by shouting from a distance. She looked at Fleur with a shrug as Bill, Harry and Ron slid to Fleur's side.

"Gods Fleur you're bleeding!" Shouted Bill wildly. "What happened out here!"

Ron scowled at Hermione, stepping in between her and Fleur. Bill gently lifted the French witch off the ground with his strong arms.

"I 'ad a small spill 'een 'zee water. I 'it my 'ead on a rock. 'Ermione brought me back to shore and resuscitated me."

Bill looked to the brown haired witch with a broad smile. "Thank Merlin Hermione. You're a ruddy hero!"

"A hero?' Ron sneered. "Bill, it's probably Hermione's fault this even happened! You do know she's been sneaking out here each morning on that bloody board of hers!"

Fleur frowned. "Non Ronald. I am afraid 'zee fault 'eez all mine. I am not 'zee strongest swimmer. I should 'ave been more careful! You cannot blame 'Ermione for 'zis. I willingly followed 'er 'eento 'zee surf!"

Hermione rolled her eyes before standing. "Don't worry Fleur. Defending me to Ronald is a lost cause. If you'll excuse me, I see that you're in good hands now." Hermione visibly started to choke back tears. "If you need me Fleur…you know where to find me…" Feeling as if she had just eaten glass, she retreated to the cottage, leaving the three behind on the sand.

What Hermione didn't see was Fleur's own eyes beginning to well with tears.

* * *

In the evening Hermione lay sprawled across her bed, silencing charms placed on all of the windows in the study to keep out the sounds of joviality outside. Her face was buried amongst the pillows, some of them still damp from hours of tears soaked into their threads. The lunch Bill had brought to her earlier had gone cold hours ago, the food completely untouched. Her hair was still stiff from the dried salt water, as she decided to forgo a shower. Her thoughts ran a mile a minute, mostly of the tender lips that graced hers mere hours ago. She had only kissed two others before; Viktor Krum and Ron. Though did this even qualify as a kiss? A kiss from another girl no less? Fingers traced her lips as she smiled to herself. Whether or not it 'qualified', the kiss from the quarter-veela was her best yet, and yet again Hermione found herself longing for the French witch's presence.

"Only two more weeks." Hermione muttered to no one. "Two more weeks until I can return to school and this nightmare of a vacation can end…"

A knock at the door followed by a gentle click of the knob ended her silence. Her heart leapt up, hoping that a particular blonde was behind the door.

"Her…Hermione? May I come in?" Came a male voice, it was Harry.

Hermione sat up and made a halfhearted attempt to tame her unruly hair. "Please."

He entered slowly, crossing the distance from the door to sit at the edge of Hermione's bed.

"So? What brings you to see me tonight? Leaving Ginny out by the bonfire?"

"Forget about her 'Mione. I came to see how _you_ were doing. You haven't seemed at all like yourself lately. In your eyes I can see so much sadness…" Harry looked down at his hands, which hung open at his knees.

"Well Harry, I'd be lying if I said I was alright." Said Hermione softly.

"I—I wish I could take back everything that Ron has said about you while we've been here. He's been a right foul git this entire time. I don't know what his problem is. I know you guys broke up this summer, but it's not like him to hold a grudge like this!"

"While I appreciate the sentiment Harry, notice how it's only been you and Fleur who have come to my side. People's true loyalties become known when it's least convenient don't you think?"

"Hermione you know that's not true…"

Hermione suddenly grew angry. "Then why does no one try to shut him up? I can only assume it's what everyone's collective opinion of me is!" She swallowed hard. "A part of me hopes that this will all blow over when we return to Hogwarts…but another believes this is only the beginning of a very rough year for me. Nearly all of my friends I have were met through either you or Ron. Had it not been for either of you taking the time to befriend me in first year…I might still be the loner I was then…well truth be told, I feel like the loneliest person here…"

"You can't mean that. Everyone likes you!"

"Really Harry? _Everyone_?"

"Well excluding Malfoy of course…"

Hermione gave a sad smile. "Malfoy aside…I think it's best if I just do my own thing this year. Don't get me wrong, I am still your friend, your friendship is precious to me…and of course I will stand with you in your quest to stop Lord Voldemort…" She paused for a moment. "There's still so much to be done…but I think I need to do some soul searching of my own…I'm barely scraping by…if that makes any sense. There's really nothing left to say…"

Harry nodded. "It does 'Mione…I just wish that didn't have to be that way. If there's anything I can do to help…you know that I've got your back." He took one of her hands in his own. His thumb gently grazed the skin of her palm. "'Mione, I owe my life to you. Yeah Ron may be my best mate, and a thickheaded git at times…but you are unlike anyone I've ever met. Without you I'd be dead. How many times has your wit and cleverness saved our hides?" He counted on his hand. "The Devil's snare in first year…the basilisk…the time-turner we used to save Sirius…the tasks of the Tri-Wizard tournament…and well besides all of that…I've come to regard you as my sister…_my family_. With Sirius gone…you're the only family I have left."

A tear slid down Hermione's cheek. "I can say the same about you Harry." He drew her into a gentle hug. "My parents have all but abandoned me too…"

"Stay strong Hermione. I know you won't let the deluded opinions of others bring you down. You're stronger than that. I can't bring down Voldemort alone 'Mione…I need you. 'Mione, you are so charming and beautiful…I can't bear to watch you retreat further inside of yourself…"

She shed tears into his shoulder as he held her. A few minutes later they pulled apart and he placed a tender kiss on her cheek.

"Thank you Harry…I…I'm sorry…"

"Don't be…" He stood up and put his hands in his jean pockets. "You'll join us for dinner won't you?"

"Maybe." Hermione said with a grin. Harry simply nodded and made his way toward the door, only to greet Fleur in the doorframe.

"'Ello 'Arry."

"Evening Fleur. Feeling better?" Asked Harry.

"Oui, very much so. 'Zough my 'ead will be a little sore for a while. 'Zank you for asking." She smiled.

Harry looked back to Hermione, who was still sitting cross-legged on the bed, and back to Fleur. "I'll leave you two alone. Good evening!" Hermione nodded as Fleur closed the door behind her. She approached the bed and blushed.

"May I?"

Hermione slid over and patted the mattress, and Fleur took a seat.

"'Ermione…'zank you…from 'zee bottom of my 'eart. 'Eef 'eet weren't for you I'd…"

As Fleur spoke an overwhelming urge to touch and embrace the French witch clung at Hermione. Her arms seemed to act upon their own accord as they gathered Fleur onto her open lap. She could hardly believe what she was doing, practically cuddling with a woman…a married woman no less. Her actions betrayed her self-control, as her desire trounced all of her common sense. Fleur's lament was merely a blur in her eardrums, and Fleur's flowing tears could barely be felt as they soaked through Hermione's shirt and ran down her skin. Taking in a deep breath through her nose, Hermione drank deep Fleur's intoxicating scent.

"And 'zat brutish Ron Weasley! 'E 'as a vendetta against you and I!"

Hermione was suddenly shaken from her trance. "Excuse me?"

Fleur choked back a few tears. "'I 'ave told you before…'zee Weasleys, 'zey are not fond of me. I 'ave 'eard Ron and Ginny call me 'Phlegm' on numerous occasions, and Molly, she 'zinks I am a bad influence on Bill…'zey look at me as 'eef I am a stranger whenever I am at 'zee Burrow. 'Eet 'urts 'Ermione…so much. I do not 'zink 'zey know 'ow much."

"Fleur I…"

"And 'zen 'zere 'eez my own family! 'Zey could not be more disappointed wiz me being here 'een England. 'Zey wanted me to stay in France, marry a rich man and make many bebes wiz him." She took in a deep breath, as Hermione held her tighter, gently urging her to 'let it all out'. "And now 'zis…" Fleur's voice was suddenly weak. "…not 'aving 'zee courage to act upon 'zat which I desire most."

Hermione arched an eyebrow at the sudden statement, looking deep into Fleur's blue eyes. Suddenly Hermione felt that familiar pull of daring, slowly moving her head closer to Fleur's.

Fleur's eyes began to close as she whispered; "…and 'eet 'eez…so close…I can almost…taste 'eet…" Fleur's breath caught in her throat as a pair of lips pressed tenderly to her own. Hermione's hand cupped Fleur's cheek as they kissed, and she began to taste salt on her tongue as tears poured from the French woman's eyes. Hermione's tongue softly probed the barrier of Fleur's mouth, as if asking for shelter. Fleur's mouth parted allowing the younger witch to deepen the kiss. A moan escaped Hermione's throat as she tasted Fleur for the first time…it was divine.

After what felt like eternity they pulled apart; both wearing dreamy expressions on their face, breaths ragged. Hermione's eyes soon went wide as the realization of what she had just done finally set in.

"You're _married! _Oh God….what have I done!" Hermione leapt to her feet and began to furiously pace. "Fleur…I am so, so, so sorry, I…never meant to force myself upon you! I don't know what I was thinking…thinking it was ok to do something like that…oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God…"

With cat-like speed Fleur stood, grabbed the back of the brunette's head and crushed her lips against Hermione's once more in a searing kiss. "I've wanted 'zis 'Ermione…more 'zan you know…and well, Bill…'e knows." She said against Hermione's mouth.

Hermione was incredulous and pulled away. "WHAT! Fleur…I, I, I only _just_ discovered I have an obvious attraction for women…but asking me to _join_ you and your husband is taking this a bit too far!" She stammered.

"Shhh…" Fleur shushed the babbling Gryffindor with a single finger pressed to her lips. "'Zat 'eez not what I mean at all ma belle…Bill knows 'zat I 'ave admired you from afar for a long time. 'Een fact, 'e was 'zee one who encouraged me to see you tonight…for I was afraid 'zat you didn't want to speak to me after what had happened today."

Hermione gave Fleur a small peck on the lips, eliciting a beaming smile on the veela's face. "It's funny, I thought the same thing of you." She whispered as she guided Fleur back to sit on the bed. They sat side-by-side, hands clasped together and fingers laced. "Now please…before I have yet another heart attack…explain_** all**_ of this to me…you're married to Bill…yet he encourages you to seek another partner…that partner being me?" Hermione felt her heart swell as she said the last few words…she couldn't believe this was happening. This kind of stuff, she assumed, happened to someone valiant like Harry…not the erudite sidekick like herself.

Fleur blushed a moment. "Oui I shall explain but…may I….non, non forget 'eet…'eets silly."

"What Fleur?"

"May I sit on your lap again…I…really like 'eet." She turned her head away as her blush burned an even deeper shade of scarlet. Hermione gladly pulled the French woman on her lap once more, encircling her arms around Fleur's waist and nuzzling her nose on the supple skin of Fleur's neck. Fleur giggled, and it sounded like music to Hermione's ears. "Ahh I don't know about you ma belle…but 'zis, 'eet feels so, how you say, _natural_ to me." Hermione absentmindedly nodded. "But 'zere 'eez somezing you must understand about Bill and I."

Hermione nodded not breaking eye contact with the French woman; listening intently on every word.

"We met at Gringott's…'e was 'zee only one patient enough wiz my Eenglish…you know how stubborn 'zee Goblins are…we became friends almost instantly. 'E was my first real friend 'ere in England. 'Zen skip ahead to 'zee battle on 'zee astronomy tower, where 'zat fiend…'e changed everyzing Fenrir Greyback…ruining 'eet for all of us."

"Fleur…what do you mean, for all of us?"

"Bill, 'e was maimed by monsieur Greyback…and 'zee injuries 'zey were not wizout complications…'e now suffers from lycanthropy…'e 'ees a…"

"Werewolf. Oh Fleur…I am so sorry…if only I knew!"

"Non, Bill wants to keep 'zis a secret. Especially from 'is family. 'E didn't 'zink 'zey would understand…but 'zat 'eez only 'alf of 'zee story. I am not sure 'eef you are aware ma belle, but recently 'zee Ministry…'zanks to Fenrir Greyback…are making people like Bill and I register…as magical creatures…"

"_Creatures!_ How demeaning! What is the Ministry thinking, denigrating its citizens like this! It's positively loathsome!"

"Oui. 'Eet 'ees not wizout purpose…'zey somehow 'zink 'eet will help capture monsieur Greyback…and watch for new death eaters…as You-Know-Who 'as an affinity for 'zee non-'uman and 'alf-'uman population. We 'ave licenses, not unlike 'zee muggles and 'zere dogs. 'Zey can monitor us 'zat way. I myself 'ad to register despite 'zee fact 'zat I am only a quarter-veela. And 'zis was of great offense to my family. The Veela are a proud people and do not consider 'zemselves to be creatures."

"Understandably so!"

"But I was not to be dissuaded by 'zee laws of 'zee Ministry…and Bill, 'e found a loophole 'een 'zee law. Wiz a marriage license 'zee restrictions upon…people like us…are not as severe. We could still hold our jobs and live comfortably…and Bill could finally get out of 'zee Burrow…so 'e proposed 'zat we get married, as both of us were single at 'zee time. And I agreed. Much to Molly's chagrin, we eloped months ago…as I'm sure you already knew. We received 'zee deed to Shell Cottage and a dowry as a result…we were able to live comfortably. Whenever we went to 'zee Burrow, or were amongst friends, I 'ad to play 'zee doting wife, and Bill 'zee 'usband." Fleur chuckled. "'Zee irony of 'zee whole situation 'eez…I am not attracted to Bill…or men at all for 'zee most part." She blushed.

"So…this marriage you have…is a façade?"

Fleur nodded. "Oh yes. We encourage each uzzer to seek a lover…'een fact Bill 'as been seeing a lovely werewolf from London…she 'ees a wonderful cook!" Fleur laughed lightly. "And 'zat…mon ange…'eez why 'e pushed me to talk to you tonight…'e could see 'ow close we've become since you and your friends arrived 'ere…and 'e knows 'ow much Ron 'as been 'urting you…"

Hermione placed a small kiss on Fleur's neck, causing the blonde to shudder. "You know…years ago, I was so set on hating you…so jealous of everything that you stood for…heck, I was even jealous of the attention you got from Ron…and not once in my wildest dreams would I have imagined that I would share the best kiss of my life with you…and find myself rendered just as dumb as the boys at Hogwarts back during the tournament."

Fleur tensed a moment. "My 'zrall…'eet does not affect women…"

"Oh Fleur…you had me at first glance…" And they melted into each other once more…Fleur boldly roaming her hands across Hermione's torso, fingertips slipping under her shirt to caress baby-soft skin. When they broke apart, Hermione pressed her forehead to Fleur's, a small smile gracing her lips. "Stay in here with me tonight sweetheart?"

"Sweet'eart? 'As 'eet already gotten to 'zat point?" Fleur giggled.

"Well don't think I haven't noticed all the pet names you've given me since I've arrived here…sweetheart."

Hermione gently pulled Fleur down on the bed, easing the covers back for both of them to crawl under. Both laid on their sides, with Fleur fitting to Hermione like a puzzle piece with her back pressed against Hermione's front. Hermione held the blonde close and closed her eyes. "Good night…sweetheart…" she murmured drowsily as she fell into a pleasant slumber; the metronomic breathing of Fleur lulling her into her dreams.

* * *

Hermione awoke the next morning when the sunlight threatened to pour through her eyes. Squinting, she slowly sat up, and carefully dislodged a slumbering Fleur from her torso. Looking down upon the peacefully sleeping woman Hermione could only smile to herself, it was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen. Fleur groggily reached up to scratch her nose and Hermione stifled a laugh at the sight. She quietly knelt beside the sleeping French woman and reached into her shorts pocket to produce a single galleon. With a slight flick of her hand she transfigured the coin into a large feather. A devilish grin swept across her face as she used it to graze the tip of Fleur's nose. A hand swatted the feather away followed by a few bleary murmurs. Hermione sniggered and tickled Fleur's nose once more.

"Ugh…no more…of 'zee Bouillabaisse maman…I am le full…" Fleur mumbled and she rolled over, exposing the supple skin of the small of her back. The feather danced across it and Fleur groaned once more. "'Zee Grindylows…'zey cannot tap dance like I can, I would teach 'zem 'ow…but I am le tired…oui I am a natural shade of Bleu…" That was enough for Hermione who burst into an uproarious guffaw, and launched herself at the suddenly awake Fleur. The blonde's eyelids whipped wide open, her eyes nearly falling from their sockets. "MON DIEU! Aiiiieee!" Hermione's hands tickled Fleur senseless, and she attempted to straddle the now thrashing Fleur.

Fleur managed to wriggle out of Hermione's grip and grabbed a nearby pillow and promptly hit the brunette across the face. "_POUR LA JUSTICE_!"

"Ahh so the gauntlet has been thrown I see!" Laughed Hermione. "Well two can play at that game!" She held aloft her left hand and suddenly the pillow was ripped from Fleur's hand directly into the younger witch's.

"No fair! I am unarmed!" The blonde shielded her face as a barrage of abruptly charmed pillows began to assault her all at once.

"I surrender!"

"I'm sorry? Couldn't catch that."

"_JE ME RENDS_ 'Ermione!" Squealed Fleur through laughter. Hermione stopped the pillows and they fell to the floor in a heap.

"Before I can accept your surrender my lady, I have certain terms that must be met."

Fleur smiled and rolled her eyes. "And what, pray tell, might 'zose terms be?"

Hermione crossed her arms tightly across her chest, and she feigned the most arrogant expression she could muster. "I demand kisses. Lots and lots of kisses. Whenever I so please."

The French woman blushed. "I 'zink I can live wiz 'zat." Hermione sat beside her on the bed and she held her arms open wide beckoning the blonde into her embrace. Fleur happily obliged. Their lips met for a few seconds before brown eyes met blue in a warm gaze. "Bonjour ma cherí. Did you sleep well last night?"

"Never better…" Hermione murmured while snuggling into Fleur's creamy neck. "I could get used to this you know."

"Are you…comfortable wiz 'zis…'eet 'as only been a matter of 'ours and already 'eet feels like much longer 'zan 'zat…I know 'zat my situation is razzer _unique_ to say 'zee least…but know 'zis, I 'ave wanted 'zis for a long time and I will give you as much time to 'zink about 'eet as you need. I do not wish to rush you mon ange." Fleur's breath caught in her throat as she spoke the last few words. Hermione simply nuzzled deeper.

"Thank you Fleur…from the bottom of my heart…" She whispered against the blonde's neck. Fleur shivered at the sensation and stifled a moan.

A click from the far side of the room broke their collective daydream and before Hermione could unhinge herself, Bill popped his head in. Instantly he beamed.

"Sorry to interrupt ladies, but I just wished to say goodbye. I…I have been called back to London…death eaters have been rather active the past few nights and they're calling us all back for extra security." He looked at Hermione. "I may not be back before you and your friends leave for Hogwarts…so good luck and be safe dear."

Fleur spoke softly. "Don't forget your wolfsbane Bill."

He rolled his eyes with a gentle laugh. "Yes mother…" He turned his attention to Hermione once more. "She glows you know."

"What?"

"Fleur. She is radiant as the sun. And never have I seen her shine so brightly. Promise me Granger that you'll protect her and take care of her."

Hermione unconsciously tightened her arms around Fleur's body, as if she were a delicate vase that could shatter if anyone else had touched her. She swallowed. "Of course Bill…"

"And Fleur, I…I am happy for you."

"Merci Bill. I _am_ 'appy."

"I hope to see you all again soon. Be careful out there will you?"

"Goodbye Bill." Said Hermione through tears. "Thank you…for everything."

"No Hermione. Thank _you."_

* * *

After Bill's departure, Hermione and Fleur found themselves spending nearly every waking moment together. Swimming and surfing out in the waves in the early morning, sharing a meal on the sand, and in the evenings behind charmed doors they cuddled up under blankets with a good book. To Hermione, this was utter bliss, and she wondered if things would be different if they had discovered their feelings back during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Fleur had told her not to dwell on such things and that everything that happened in the past, no matter how good or how bad, had somehow made all of this possible. Nevertheless, despite the elation she was feeling, deep inside her gut she knew what was coming. Hogwarts. Would this mean their fledgling relationship would be over as soon as it began? Would Fleur even want to date someone still in school? She knew that what was to come would be difficult for the two of them. She shook the thoughts from her head and allowed herself to just live in the moment.

The only times that they were apart was in the company of Hermione's friends. They both shared a tacit agreement that perhaps they were not ready to share what they had with the world just yet. Hermione found these times daunting, as the object of her desire would be so agonizingly close. Her arms practically ached to envelope the quarter-veela, her lips longed to kiss Fleur senseless, fingers ready to run miles through a forest of golden blonde hair. However she could see the furtive glares from Ron every once and awhile that brought anger. Each passing day she grew more and more fed up with his behavior, his jabs and insults. Tried as she might, she couldn't suppress the pain any longer, and she would crumple in Fleur's embrace, her body quaking with sobs. Much to Hermione's chagrin, the day on which they were set to depart shell cottage was only 48 hours away. 48 precious hours.

They lay together across a blanket, clad in only their swimsuits after a long swim in the waves. Fleur's smaller frame laid on top of Hermione's, the brunette's strong arms along her sides, and fingertips tracing lazy circles between her shoulder blades. "Oh mon ange, 'zat feels wonderful…" Fleur bit her bottom lip as Hermione lightly dragged her nails across the soft skin of Fleur's ribs, and a moan escaped her throat. Hermione responded by playfully flicking her tongue across the supple lips floating precariously above her. And Fleur kissed her, smiling into Hermione's lips. "I know 'eet sounds cliché, but 'Ermione, I don't want 'zis moment to ever end…"

"Mmm, neither do I sweetheart."

"'Ermione 'zere 'eez somezing I 'ave been meaning to tell you."

Hermione playfully groaned. "Can it wait? Less talking…more kissing."

Fleur giggled. "Really 'Ermione listen to moi! I 'ave an apartment!"

"What?"

"Oui, 'een Hogsmeade. 'Zey let you go 'zere while at 'Ogwarts non?"

Hermione's eyes widened, as did the toothy grin slowly growing on her face. Things may not be so hopeless as Hermione once believed. "Yes! Fleur, this is a dream come true! Do you realize this means we can stay together? We don't have to wait 'til the Christmas holiday!"

"'Ermione, even 'eef I didn't 'ave 'zat place, I would never 'ave left you! I 'ave never been so excited to start a relationship wiz someone before you ma belle."

"I feel like I'm on top of the world!" Hermione hugged her tighter, and Fleur played with a strand of her long brown hair, lazily twirling it around a finger. "How long have you been a tenant Fleur?"

"At least a year. I would apparate 'zere from work 'eef I 'ad business nearby to attend to. And as much as Bill and I love 'zis cottage, 'zee weather 'eez a bit unbearable in 'zee winter months."

"So in theory, I could have been right outside your window, completely unaware that you were there?"

"Oh I remember seeing you, Ron, and 'Arry a few times. But I was nervous 'zat you three would not remember me from 'zee Tournament."

"Well, plan on many visits from me throughout this coming term. I want less and less to be in the dormitories." Hermione said dejectedly, looking off to the side. "I have a foreboding feeling that this will likely be a difficult year for me. With or without Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters."

"Hush, don't say such 'zings, I know 'zat somezing will be done about 'zat brute!" She huffed. "…and my door will always be open for you ma belle." The final sentence was merely a soft whisper.

Hermione's lips met Fleur's once more in a hungry kiss and they rolled over on the blanket, legs tangling together. Breaths suddenly became husky as the kisses deepened, and Fleur's thigh rubbed against the apex of Hermione's legs. The blonde's pale fingers traced the faint grooves along the sinewy muscles of Hermione's developing abdomen. Hermione's body had slowly begun to tone as she continued her swimming through the past weeks. No longer did she feel she looked like a teenage girl…she was a woman.

"Gods Fleur…I…I…your body..."

Fleur's mouth pressed against Hermione's ear as she spoke in a harsh whisper. "What 'eez 'eet 'zat you want mon amie…" Her long nails grazed the meager fabric concealing two very sensitive mounds of soft flesh, earning her another whimper from the brown haired witch.

"Uhh…"

"Tell me…" A pointed tongue traced the ridge of Hermione's ear, and the blonde took her earlobe into her mouth, giving it a light suck.

"**WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON!"**

**

* * *

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til next time. Ttfn tata for now!


	5. Hang Me Out to Dry

**A/N:** 2000+ Views this time! (Go me! hehe) Once again, thanks for all of the luv! And I promise you all, things start to get interesting in this chapter.

Oh and perhaps you've noticed that the rating has now been bumped to M, mostly for what is to come, and at the suggestion of some of you (thanks!)

Enjoy!

* * *

It was the shrill voice of Ginny Weasley.

Hermione's blood turned to ice and immediately her face contorted into a deep scowl. Fleur looked back at the brunette in total fear, mouth held slightly agape. The blonde's arms instinctively went to cover her up her barely clad body, Hermione reached over for the nearby towel, wrapping it gently around Fleur and placed a quick kiss on her temple. Fleur could only wince at the contact.

Unbeknownst to the two women, all of their friends had exited the cottage and were making their way down to the water, towels and blankets clutched in their hands. Ginny was at the front of the group, standing a mere five feet from the blanket, visibly furious at the sight of her brother's wife straddling her other brother's ex-girlfriend. "What in the bloody hell is going on here?" She repeated. "Why is she on top of you Hermione? You're both practically naked!"

Ron, who had now approached was wearing an even more furious scowl, fists clenched at his side. Seamus and Dean looked completely dumbstruck, and Neville was just confused.

Harry and Luna stood a few feet behind, Luna looking like her normal airy self, and Harry a bit uncomfortable by the whole scene.

Ron drew closer, practically hovering over the two witches. "Hermione! What is this? Snogging my brother's wife! Is this your delusional idea for revenge for our relationship? Why would you do this to Bill?" Ron bellowed, his face turned red with anger.

"Honestly Hermione? With _**Phlegm**_?" An incensed Ginny snarled.

"Don't. Call. Her. That." Seethed Hermione through gritted teeth.

Ron drew closer glowering at his fellow Gryffindor. "To think I once considered you my friend. My brother...my _**married **_brother shows us hospitality during these terrible times and you go ahead and _**fuck **_his wife!" Everyone winced at the harsh word. He moved his attention toward Fleur. "And as for _**you **_Phlegm, mum was right. That bloody thrall of yours seems to have claimed yet _another_ victim."

Fleur was dumbstruck, her tongue felt as if it were made of lead as she couldn't form the words to defend herself. Hermione however stood up, muscles tensed. "I said don't call her that!" She walked closer to the red haired boy, getting dangerously close to his face. In his true fashion he nervously began to stumble back a few steps. "Don't presume to understand the entire situation _**Ronald.**_ Say what you wish about me, as you seem to have no qualms over letting the entire world know how you feel about me…but insult _**Fleur**_again…and there _will _be consequences. I can promise you that."

Ginny suddenly ran to her brother's side, shoving Hermione back hard with her hands. "You're a...a…home-wrecker Hermione! What will Bill think when he finds out about this? And _you…_" She pointed at Fleur, words dripping with acid. "…putting my brother under your veela spell…poisoning him with your _glamour_ and _air-headedness_. You disgust me, I never knew why my brother would be so daft to fall for someone like you."

Ron cut off his sister addressing Hermione once more. "And since when do _**you**_ fancy other women? Phlegm does not surprise me. You? I always knew you were mad, but now it's clear to me that you're completely barking." Ron spat. "It's almost as sick as two men snogging!"

Fleur instantly broke down in tears, crying audibly, her head buried in her hands. Hermione, however didn't flinch at all despite the tempest of rage brewing in her gut. The veins of her arms were rapidly becoming more pronounced as she clenched her fists painfully tight.

"Stay away from me, and my family, you disgusting freak. Take your _Veela_ with you. Hope things go well for you both." Ron spat and thrust a finger at the brunette.

Hermione crossed her arms across her chest, appearing unaffected by Ron's threatening words. "That won't be a problem seeing as you've already made your feelings toward me known…truth be told I'll be glad to have a Burrow-free term this year. I've grown quite weary of that dilapidated place." She snapped back with vitriol.

That was enough. "Why you…" He reached for his wand, aiming its tip at Hermione's chest. She blanched for a moment, coming to the awful realization that she had left her wand inside the cottage. Her thoughts raced a mile a minute as something completely inexplicable began to happen.

Out of nowhere time itself seemed to have suddenly slowed to a crawl. Ron's lips contorted as they began to form the word 'Stupefy', and in those moments Hermione could feel something swell within her gut. Her senses honed, her eyesight became acute, heart beating strongly and steadily in her chest, muscles completely tensed, every ounce of her being utterly focused upon the spark beginning to form from the wand's tip. In her mind one word echoed over and over…at first a soft whisper, soon a dull roar, until finally the incantation hurdled itself through her neurons. Her mind was abruptly clear, and the undeniable urge to cast _protego_ the only thought.

Crashing back to reality Ron's attack nearly reached her, only to be repelled by an immensely powerful protection spell. The stupefy had ricocheted violently upon contact, Ron having to throw his body out of the way of the wayward spell. Sprawled on the ground he gaped at the brown haired witch, as did the other onlookers. In their eyes Hermione had simply stared down the wand in complete silence, not once did she flinch or move a muscle…in fact she didn't even blink. The protection spell had simply _emanated_ from her body.

_**No wand. **_

_**No movement. **_

_**No words.**_

"Bloody hell…" Ron stood up suddenly looking very, very afraid. Ginny slowly backed away, as did the rest of the group. Harry didn't budge; he was completely stunned.

For once, Hermione felt…powerful. And power, she was beginning to find, felt _good._ Her stony gaze did nothing to betray the utter surprise she felt at having successfully performed a spell with only the power of her mind; the sensation itself was nearly orgasmic, and it left her feeling physically tired. _Try it again._ She thought acerbically as her heart hammered in her chest. _I dare you. _She was breathing heavily.

"RON! HERMIONE! Enough!" Fed up with their bickering, Harry had run to their sides, arms held wide to keep the two feuding people apart. "We can talk this out. Hermione there's something you're not telling us…I know you wouldn't try to break up a marriage…"

"Yes Harry….there is indeed more to this story, but it seems I've wasted my breath enough already. And I shan't waste any more of it on this, this…_troglodyte!_" She turned to look at the shaking blonde still curled up in fetal position upon the blanket behind her. "Fleur…I am leaving tonight. Clearly I have done enough damage here…you are welcome to come with me."

"Hermione where will you go? Please stay…I know we can work this out!" Harry pleaded.

Ron frowned. "There's nothing left to say Harry. Her true colors finally come out. Look at her, casting spells like some kinda bloody _demon_. Let her go I say, we don't need her. Let them both go. Get out of my brother's house _**Phlegm**_." Ginny nodded crossly in agreement.

Harry opened his mouth to speak again, only to be interrupted by Hermione, who had placed a reassuring hand upon his shoulder. "Harry it's alright…clearly there's no convincing them of anything." She walked over to Fleur and carefully helped the sobbing witch to her feet. "Harry," She began again quietly. "I shall see you at school, and I promise that I'll explain everything…since you have been kind enough to offer me an ear."

She looked back at her other classmates standing behind them, each rendered dumb by the entire fight that had ensued. "Nothing to say have you all?" They parted silently as Hermione guided Fleur back into the cottage, opening the front door for her. The brown haired witch turned back to face the two scowling Weasleys. "We'll be gone in ten minutes, don't worry, I'll be sure to no longer poison the otherwise _friendly_ atmosphere you all have been so diligently building since we arrived here." With that she entered and slammed the door behind her.

Facing the back of the door, she could hear her friends beginning to shout stridently at one another, with Ron's angry voice being the most pronounced. Tears threatened to pour from her eyes and she choked back the sobs that were brewing in her chest.

She wanted to tell them. She wanted to tell them everything so that they wouldn't abandon her…but the sight of the wounded Fleur upon the sand was enough to assure her where she belonged. Fleur needed her. And she needed Fleur. '_Friends'_ be damned.

Turning around she saw that Fleur had likely retreated to her room.

And indeed Fleur was in her and Bill's bedroom, rapidly using spells to move her clothes and belongings into two waiting suitcases on the bed. Hermione entered the room quietly, dodging the tornado of flying clothes and objects.

She looked up at the frenzied French woman. "Fleur…I…"

"Non!" Fleur growled angrily, whipping her head around, her eyes still red and moist with tears. The sight startled the young witch. "Don't you dare apologize for what just happened out 'zere…I am leaving wiz you. Get your 'zings. 'Zee longer I stand in 'ere 'zee more I feel like a stranger 'een my own home." In her haste a tiny object fell and rolled across the floor toward Hermione's feet. Bending down, the brunette retrieved the entity and looked at it closely. It was a small pointed crystal beset in a silver base tied to a thin leather strap. A red light thrummed softly inside the crystal. Fleur, who appeared to be frenetically searching for something turned around to see Hermione staring curiously at the stone.

"My phylactery! Give 'eet 'ere 'Ermione! I cannot lose 'zat!"

"Your what? Fleur…what is this thing?" The blonde witch took Hermione by surprise as she hastily snatched the crystal out of Hermione's hand. Fleur anxiously tied it around her neck and the crystal came to rest over her heaving chest.

"'Zere 'eez not enough time to explain 'zat now. Please just go and get ready…NOW 'Ermione!" Fleur snapped.

Hermione nodded and dashed off toward the study.

* * *

They had arrived via floo at the Leaky Cauldron, quickly blending in with the bustling clientele, despite still being slightly damp from their earlier swim. Hermione wore a pair of blue running shorts and a black tank top and Fleur was wrapped in a powder blue sarong. They looked like two travelers returning from a Caribbean holiday. Their appearance garnered them a few strange looks from the other patrons, but neither woman seemed to care. Fleur strode over to the front desk and flagged the innkeeper Tom. He smiled broadly at the sight of such an elegant blonde witch in his pub and hobbled over as fast as he could manage.

"Can I help you dear?" He asked kindly.

Fleur nodded. "Oui, my companion and I would like a room for 'zee night…and per'aps a meal…"

"Why yes, you're in luck, I've got one suite left for the evening! Just give me a moment to have it cleaned." He snapped his fingers, alerting a small house elf that waddled over to his side. "Please prepare room 13 for this lovely lady won't you?" The elf nodded and promptly disapparated. Tom turned his attention toward Fleur once more. "Now would you like to eat down here or have your food delivered to your room my dear?"

"To our room. We 'ave 'ad a rather difficult day and would like a moment of respite…" Fleur paused a beat and looked over her shoulder at Hermione, who was absently looking at the dusty picture frames that dotted the dingy pub's walls. "And un bottle of your top shelf firewhiskey."

"Done and done."

A gentle pop to Fleur's left signified the return of the house elf, his task complete. Tom held a rusty key in one of his mangled hands out for Fleur to take. "Up the stairs, the last room on the left. Have a pleasant stay and thank you for choosing the Leaky Cauldron."

* * *

The run down décor of the shanty pub belied the sophistication of the Inn's suites. An elegant room with a polished oak four-post bed, a small table with two chairs, and a comfortably roaring fire in the fireplace greeted Hermione and Fleur as they opened the heavy suite door. Fleur walked over to the lone window on the far wall and leaned against its sill. Silently Hermione followed suit, wrapping her arms around the French witch from behind, softly resting her head on Fleur's shoulder.

"Are you all right baby?" said Hermione, closing her eyes and inhaling the salty scent of Fleur's still damp hair.

"'Eets incredible…never 'ave I experienced such pain and 'urt like I did at Ronald and Ginny's words…but now 'zat I am alone wiz you 'ere, ma belle, 'eets as 'eef 'eet 'ees but a distant memory…or should I say, nightmare."

"You know I'll be here for you…the rest of the world can go to hell."

"'Ermione!"

"Sorry sweetheart…I…I'm just…bewildered by everything." Hermione swallowed hard. In the pit of her stomach she knew that the months to follow were not going to be easy. Who knew what was going on back at Shell Cottage. Ron and Ginny were likely still completely livid, as no one would dare to come between a Weasley and their family. And what made matters worse was the realization that people would likely not take kindly to her new relationship. Fleur visibly choked back tears and suddenly Hermione was filled with renewed vigor. She had meant what she said. What she began with Fleur had the potential for beauty and the rest of the world…well they could rot for all she cared. Anger coursed through her veins and she felt much like a wolf, protecting its injured mate; ready to fight to the death so long as Fleur was unharmed. The Weasleys, they had hurt Fleur, attacked her with their harsh words and assumptions. If they had the gall to come near her goddess again…

"May we lay down mon ange? I am feeling a bit woozy…" Fleur's softly spoken words shook Hermione from her thoughts.

Hermione nodded and lightly put her left arm under Fleur's knees and her right arm across the French woman's back, effortlessly lifting her off the ground. Hermione gasped at how fragile Fleur felt in her arms, and cradled her close as she carefully walked from the window to the bed. She placed Fleur down gently on top of the plush comforter and reached over to put a pillow behind Fleur's back.

"'Zank you…"

Fleur pouted as Hermione had returned to the windowsill, making the brunette chuckle. "Don't worry sweetheart I'll be there in a moment I promise…I just needed a little air." She pushed the ancient window open a slight crack and took a deep breath as the cool London breeze rushed in. "Are you certain this is what you want…you still have a chance to go you know…we can find Bill…he can explain everything. Maybe make things as they were before…"

"Non! Are you not 'zee brightest witch of your year? 'Zat 'ees a preposterous idea…'eef 'zings went back to what 'zey were before…which 'zey will not…I wouldn't 'ave you ma belle!" Fleur ran a svelte hand angrily through her long golden hair. "Believe me…I want to talk to Bill…about 'zis situation…and our 'marriage' of course…perhaps I shall after you 'ead to 'Ogwarts…"

Hermione noticeably tensed at the words.

"Oh not like that 'Ermione! 'Zough I do 'zink 'e deserves an explanation for why 'is family will suddenly be so hostile to me...I want to still 'elp 'im keep 'is illness a secret…I will ask 'im not to defend me…as you say 'eets a lost cause. I am sure a divorce will be 'een my future as well…" She paused a moment. "'Zee Weasleys are so protective of 'zere family…'eet almost makes me jealous…"

Hermione nodded. "I-I know what you mean…I haven't spoken to my own in ages…they've grown so distant over these past few years…always working…always at some _conference_…" The brown haired witch said the final word with sudden vitriol. "…always going on holiday without me, never batting an eye at sending me off to the Burrow to be _babysat_ on the holidays. Even now they're completely unaware of what I have been doing this entire summer…there are times that I wonder if I'm even related to them." Hermione sighed.

"Please come over 'ere…let me 'old you…" Hermione obliged, allowing herself to rest her head on Fleur's chest, and be cradled by the French woman's arms now gently wrapped around her. Fleur placed small kisses on the top of Hermione's head. "Perhaps we will get a chance to talk to your parents 'zis year…tell 'zem what you feel…"

Hermione lifted her head off of Fleur and looked her straight in the eyes. "For what purpose? I just know they'll just throw some money at me and tell me to move out…" Hermione swallowed hard and allowed herself to be lowered back down by Fleur's gentle hands. "When I was little…more appropriately before I found out I was a witch…they treated me like their little princess. Holidays were wonderful, birthdays always a lavish event, and the holidays to the shore were plentiful. My father and I would swim for hours! Then I discovered I could do magic…and I received my acceptance letter in the mail. Understandably, as muggles, my parents were flabbergasted, completely unsure of what to do with my newfound identity. To them magic was only an illusion…a slight of hand…I for one couldn't be happier. I planned on being the best witch of my age…even before I had gotten there! My best friend that first summer was _Hogwarts: A History._ And I went through my first two years without a hitch…coming home to a warm Christmas meal for holiday, my room exactly as I had left it."

She sighed wistfully before continuing. "However they came to realize in the months that I was away at Hogwarts, mum and dad now had much more time on their hands to focus on their careers. Their dental practice became a huge success…earning them handsome salaries after they established themselves as the best practice in two districts. People would have to wait months for an appointment. Then came the private vacations to the islands, dental conferences and meetings with pharmaceutical companies. The Christmas of my third year I had to spend it with my aunt when they had been invited to a gala in New York City. And I practically had my own room at the Burrow." Hermione stifled a tear. "They were always busy…hardly ever writing…as if they had forgotten I'd even existed."

"_Je suis désolé…"_

"It's alright…I am done dwelling upon those who have hurt me. I am just…eternally grateful that I found you. You make me feel…wanted…and well, not so…alone." The brunette sighed. It was the truth…she had endured many hardships over the past few years and tonight in the arms of this goddess she finally felt at peace.

"And I feel 'zee same way…but not to cut short 'zis conversation I am le famished! Why don't you go take a warm shower and I will go downstairs and get our meal…'zey should 'ave delivered by now." Hermione nodded in response and slid out of Fleur's embrace, suddenly missing the blonde's arms. Fleur crossed the room and gave Hermione a quick peck on the lips. "Go now…you still smell like 'zee ocean mon ange!"

Hermione smirked. "Oh but you stink too."

Fleur playfully swatted her arm. "A girl like me does not 'stink' as you so vulgarly put 'eet! My body 'as a most wonderful natural aroma! 'Zee Delacour women, we pride ourselves on smelling pleasant."

"I don't know…perhaps this is a new scent you are trying? Au de Fleur, with the delightful odor of sweat and salt water?" Hermione laughed as Fleur jokingly furrowed her brow.

"Get 'eento 'zee shower before I 'ex you!"

"You wouldn't dare."

Fleur smiled wickedly and produced her wand, and Hermione's hands went up in defeat. "All right I won't tempt fate…I shall see you soon." With that Fleur nodded and exited the suite.

Entering the modest sized bathroom Hermione started to strip out of her clothes making her way to the shower. Her reflection in the wall mirror grabbed her attention as she stopped to look at her naked torso. She smiled at what she saw. No longer did her curves appear soft as she now had the beginnings of muscle definition. Her stomach had become taut, a gentle ridge beginning to form at the apex of her rib cage. Her arms were also becoming more toned, the slope of her biceps becoming more pronounced as she turned from side to side. Her breasts still retained their fullness, and her smooth round rump was firm. Her thoughts returned to the French woman, and a sudden pang of fear gripped at her, would she be good enough? Her sexual endeavors were few and not very exciting. Ron was a clumsy lover, finishing himself and often falling asleep before moving his attention to Hermione; who was left to her own devices. Viktor, though what she considered to be a short 'fling' was a bit more experienced, but once again he too left her feeling unfulfilled. Hermione felt herself instantly dampen at the thought of becoming intimate with Fleur, and her face went red.

Kicking herself mentally she muttered aloud, "Calm down Hermione…there's no need to rush something so wonderful. It will happen when it's ready to." And she entered the shower, letting out a loud sigh of relief under the soothing stream of hot water.

* * *

Their meal was mostly spent in silence, both savoring the fleeting moments of the other's company. They occasionally made small conversation, mostly a means of getting to know each other better. After a while, the blonde finally decided to disclose why she had angrily snatched the crystal necklace from Hermione back at Shell Cottage.

She produced the crystal from the collar of her shirt and held it aloft for Hermione to see. "'Zis 'eez my Phylactery…'zink of 'eet as my…dog collar…'zis crystal 'as a sister sitting 'een a chamber 'een 'zee ministry building. As long as 'zey are 'een possession of 'zee sister crystal, 'zey can keep close watch on me…wherever I may be…'Zis 'eez 'ow 'zey can enforce 'zee surveillance on 'zee 'part-'uman' population."

"Oh how dreadful!"

Fleur could only muster a glum shrug. "'Eet 'eez a powerful way to control uzzers non? I am at 'zee complete mercy of 'zee Ministry as long as the 'ave my phylactery."

"Why not dump the one you have…be free!"

"Non, 'zey will know. 'Zee crystals speak to one anuzzer, as 'zey both contain my blood. 'Eef 'zis crystal 'eez not on my body for long, 'zee uzzer will alert 'zee ministry 'zat somezing 'eez wrong. Per'aps I am dead, or am trying to escape. 'Zey will send 'zee aurors right away. Failure to wear 'zis 'eez a one-way trip to Azkaban…" Fleur heaved a sad sigh.

Hermione reached over the table and gathered the blonde's soft hands into her own. "I promise you, here and now, that somehow I will make this ghastly method of control come to an end. It's wrong. It's unethical. And above all else it's demeaning. Sacrificing the liberty of innocents for security is loathsome. You are not a second-class citizen! We are all equal…Merlin…the Ministry needs to have its collective head checked!"

"Hush 'Ermione…let us not dwell on 'zee political right now…let's 'ave a drink shall we?" Fleur produced the bottle of firewhiskey and two shot glasses. Pulling out the cork, Fleur adroitly filled the glasses in one graceful pour. Hermione spied them with a smirk upon her face. Before this summer's events, before meeting Fleur, she never would've imagined drinking alcohol. She had despised it, and its effects on people; often she discouraged Ron and Harry from drinking it. Though tonight, she decided, a stiff drink was a much-needed remedy. Practically salivating at it's smell, she brought the glass to her lips and glanced at the blonde who gave a knowing wink, "To a good 7th year at 'Ogwarts for my darling 'Ermione!" she cried before tossing back the drink. The burn of the liquor as it traveled down Hermione's throat offered her an odd sense of comfort and she smiled. Warmth swiftly radiated across her body and she felt herself relax at once.

"Another…" Requested Hermione, holding the shot glass aloft to be refilled. "…and this next one is to _**us**_."

And so it went. One shot had lead to another. And another. And another. And another until the bottle had been completely emptied. They happily toasted to nearly everything from Fleur, to cheese and to designer handbags. It wasn't long before both witches were completely inebriated off of the firewhiskey…and off each other. The stumbled onto the large bed, lips pressed firmly together. Hands roamed like a pack of ravenous hunters all over each other's body. Hermione could even feel Fleur's thrall hungrily raking over her skin, and probing her in her most intimate of places. A gasp escaped her throat before Fleur's mouth and tongue muffled the sound. Fleur kissed her with such a voracious craving she drew blood from the younger witches lower lip; the sweet salty taste invading both of their mouths. The ebb and flow of the younger witch's intoxication made it feel as if the entire room had been submerged in water and at a moments notice they could be swept away in the current. Her head throbbed painfully and she pulled away from Fleur's wanton grasp and flopped onto her back beside the veela. Fleur stared at her incredulously before her own eyelids grew heavy and she fell asleep.

"Mmmmph…good night…baby…" Hermione gurgled before passing out cold.

And they spent Hermione's final night of the summer in a carousing tangle of limbs, contentedly snoozing in a delightfully drunk slumber. Both blissfully unaware of tomorrow's inevitable good byes.

* * *

**A/N 2: ** And so ends Part I. I know that I've been pretty quick with these updates, and hope to keep up with that for Part II. I anticipate having the next chapter up by the end of this coming week. I'm in the middle of training for a huge race in November, and my running/lifting schedule gets a little more hectic as race day gets closer. Oh yeah and there also is those pesky things called real life, being an adult and work! :P

**A/N 3:** To anyone that's an Xbox 360 junkie like I am...kinda borrowed the Phylactery idea from the amazing game **Dragon Age: Origins.** :P Sorry!

Hope you all enjoyed! Send some luv if you want!

til next time, ttfn, tata for now!


	6. INTERMEZZO

**INTERMEZZO**

A heavy darkness blanketed the streets that evening. Nary a soul was outside to witness two cloaked figures hurrying swiftly down the cobblestone street, glancing over their shoulders every few steps. Absconding swiftly down a shadowy alleyway, they came to a halt in front of a bare brick wall, sparsely lit by a single rotting lamp hanging precariously from a decrepit windowsill.

The taller of the two glimpsed hastily from left to right before lowering the hood of their robes. A slick mane of jet-black tresses emerged from underneath the thick fabric.

"Are you sure you saw her Wormtail!" Bellatrix Lestrange hissed through gritted teeth, her wild eyes flickered in the ominous moonlight. As she looked down at her shorter companion, her sable hair created a long portentous veil around her skeletal face.

He nodded furiously. "Yes, yes, yes! They l-l-l-left the cottage not too long ago." The words sputtered from his lips. "There was a f-f-f-fight you see, and they left in a hurry soon after!"

"A fight!" Bellatrix exclaimed excitedly. "Does the Dark Lord know of this?" Wormtail's head bobbed up and down eagerly. She snatched the collar of his cloak and shook him violently. "What happened exactly! Tell me you miserable creature!"

When she let go Wormtail recoiled in fear. "I-I-I am not sure…the Weasel and his sister…saw her on the beach with her lover…"

Bellatrix looked whimsically back at the grungy man, and an odd smile grew across her face. "She has a _lover_?"

Wormtail nodded. "Y-y-yes…a b-b-beautiful young French woman…"

"_This_ makes everything so much more…_interesting_…"

Wormtail continued. "The two _Weasels, they_ started to berate her in such horrible voices…nearly made my little ears explode! The boy even tried to h-h-hex her." Hands now clamped to his hairy ears he shook his head wildly, as if reliving the moment once more.

Bellatrix' eyes grew wide with apparent concern. "Was she hurt!"

"Um…no…she was a-able to cast a rather p-p-potent protection spell before he could hit her…"

Bellatrix snarled angrily, her teeth bared like a rapacious animal. "Those detestable little _Weasel_ children! I'll _**kill**_ them both! Rip them to shreds with my bare hands!" Her bewildering outburst greatly startled the sniveling little man and she turned to glower at him once more; her face rife with rage. "Where is she now Wormtail? **Where. Is. **_**Hermione**_**?**"

"I f-f-f-followed them through the floo…she's with her l-l-lover in the Leaky C-c-cauldron as we speak."

Bellatrix adjusted her hold upon the bulky leather satchel that cradled in her arms. She cursed to herself. "Drat! There are too many people around right now…" Her brow furrowed. "It was a mistake coming here…we're too _exposed._"

"W-w-w-what do we do now?"

"We wait of course." Bellatrix looked up toward the pale moon, and smiled. "You have done your job well Wormtail…it seems as if things are already beginning to happen upon their own accord…" Wormtail followed the direction of her gaze looking rather confused. Bellatrix spun on her heel and approached the blank wall, using her crooked wand to tap against it in a rapid staccato rhythm. Moments later an archway formed amongst the bricks. "Come now…there is much preparation to be done." With that, they departed through the newly formed portico that disappeared as quickly as it had formed.


	7. Misread

**A/N:** Like the little teaser yesterday? ) Here's a meaty one for you all. Send some luv if you want!

Any Smashing Pumpkins fans might appreciate the title of Part II! Oh! And be sure to check out Kings of Convenience, they're an awesome mellow group (as well as The Whitest Boy Alive...for any of my fellow obscure Indie Rock fans)

**A/N 2:** Remember this is stictly AU! Any Q's be sure to shoot 'em my way!

* * *

…_A friend is not a means_

_You utilize to get somewhere_

_Somehow I didn't notice_

_Friendship is an end_

_What do you know?_

_It happened again._

_How come no one told me,_

_All throughout history_

_The loneliest people_

_Were the ones who always spoke the truth?_

_The ones who made a difference._

_By withstanding the indifference._

_I guess it's up to me now,_

_Should I take that risk or just smile?_

_What do you know?_

_It happened again._

_What do you know?_

_-**"Misread" by Kings of Convenience**_

* * *

**PART II:**** The Beginning is the end is the beginning.**

Hermione stood alone upon the platform at Kings Cross station a good distance away from the other students. Fleur could not accompany her as the French witch needed to report back to Gringott's for work. Hermione did nothing to conceal her disheveled appearance as she was wearing a simple black tank top and a pair of distressed jeans; her long wavy locks piled high on top of her head in a slipshod bun. On her trunk rested her robes as she found it to be rather itchy today, and beyond that, felt no desire to wear the thing at all. All around her the other students, especially the first years, were exceedingly excited and cheerful; their jovial nature was infectious. However Hermione, who was completely and utterly hung-over, did not feel an ounce of joyfulness flowing anywhere within her blood. Dread was all that she could feel; dread for the year to come.

Hangovers, she had come to discover, were downright dreadful things. Her bloodshot eyes had the sensation of sand being rubbed under their lids every time she blinked, her head throbbed painfully and her mouth felt like it had been stuffed full of cotton, only to have it hastily ripped out. Stumbling out of bed this morning Hermione nearly forgot that she had a train to catch. Fleur, being equally as disoriented, tried her best to help the brunette gather her school supplies but kept stridently complaining of a headache. When all of her personal effects were finally gathered, their parting had truly been nothing out of the ordinary. No theatrical goodbyes or intense soliloquies had been passed between the two witches. That's how Hermione wanted it for she wasn't going to allow Hogwarts, or it's students, to be an obstacle for her and Fleur's blossoming relationship. In fact she even nonchalantly asked Fleur out on a date that very Friday to which the blonde witch responded with a smoldering kiss.

They had chosen to meet at the Three Broomsticks on that Friday night, and just see where the night took them from there. Fleur then gave Hermione the address to her apartment, which was situated a floor above Gladrags Wizardwear. A few fleeting kisses and hugs were exchanged before Hermione apparated with her trunk to Kings Cross, mentally steeling herself for the months that were to come.

The familiar scarlet steam engine rumbled slowly into the station setting off a chain reaction of goodbyes around her. Students and their parents were bustling about, checking and rechecking their trunks, exchanging scores of hugs and kisses. Despite all of this cheerfulness however, harsh reminders of the war were ubiquitous.

Warning leaflets and wanted posters littered the walls, nearly every one containing a portrait of another death eater. The poster closest to her was for Bellatrix Lestrange, who in her wanted photo, was smiling coyly and playfully twirling a strand of her long black hair, as if to say '_Come and get me…I dare you'. _Hermione found herself almost envying the dark witch; despite having nearly the entire world against her, Bellatrix carried her manic self without giving a damn about the consequences. Her thoughts were interrupted when the Bellatrix in the photo suddenly began to grimace, and Hermione could see why. Molly Weasley had just walked across the platform, followed closely by Ron, Ginny and Harry. When the Weasley matriarch's eyes finally rested upon Hermione standing alone, her face right away warped into a sneer, her head shaking from side to side in a censorious manner. Her two children also wore a similar expression. Unbeknownst to them, Harry gave her his trademark lopsided smile and quietly mouthed the words "We have to talk later…"

Hermione only nodded in acknowledgement and silently boarded the car in front of the one Ron, Harry and Ginny got on. She wished to be as far away from them as she could manage.

The Hogwarts Express slowly lurched away from the station with a jerk as Hermione quietly made her way through the congested cabin hoping to find an abandoned compartment, but unfortunately there were none. Thanks to Dumbledore's assassination last term and the myriad of death eater attacks, she half-expected Hogwarts to be almost vacant, but she soon came to realize that even with the war near it's breaking point, Hogwarts might still be the last safe haven in England. Several of her old friends from Gryffindor were happily chatting away in a few of the compartments, and much to her dismay Ron must've already been hard at work destroying her reputation among them as none would pay her any mind, or offer her a seat. They would go completely silent as she walked by. Rolling her eyes she continued her search for a seat.

At long last she came across a compartment with two young first years, a girl and a boy no older than 11, both dressed in their brand new robes sitting on one bench happily sharing a box of some Bertie Bott's beans. Hermione softly tapped on the glass with her knuckle getting their attention, and she gestured toward the empty seat across from them. They both nodded.

Sliding the door open she greeted them with a soft hello and placed her trunk upon the overhead rack. Laying her long lithe body across the bench she pulled a small paper back from her satchel and then used the bag as a makeshift headrest. Opening her book with a flutter of pages, she found her place and began to silently read, though she could see the two first years eyeing her fixedly through the corner of her vision. After a few unnerving minutes she turned her attention to them. "Yes?"

"S-sorry to bother you, we were just wondering what year you are in." Said the boy with a shaky voice.

Hermione turned to face him. "I am in my 7th year."

The boy turned to his friend and both exclaiming a collective "Whoa!"

"So you must be really old right? Asked the girl eagerly.

Hermione gave a smirk at this. "Well, I'll be 19 in two weeks."

"Oh! It will be your birthday soon? How wonderful!" Exclaimed the boy cheerfully, making Hermione laugh lightly. "Do you have any plans for a party with your friends?"

Hermione was now absently gazing at the English countryside rapidly passing by outside the window. The sight soothed her. She sighed deeply. "No I don't…to be perfectly honest, I don't have many friends at Hogwarts. There's really only one person I care about in this whole world…and I plan to spend my birthday with them."

"Oh how romantic! You have a boyfriend! Lucky!" The girl cried clapping her hands together.

"Something like that you could say…" Hermione murmured absently with a trace of melancholy in her voice as the girls question unintentionally sparked images of Fleur in her mind. Her heart painfully longed for the blonde witch.

"What is your name?" Asked the girl.

"My name is Hermione…Hermione Granger."

"_The_ Hermione Granger! The best friend of Harry Potter?" The boy's eyes were so wide with excitement Hermione expected his eyes to fall out of his skull. Hermione nodded with a smile. "Wicked! I can't believe we're sharing a cabin with one of the golden trio! We've seen you in the Prophet! But…where is Harry Potter? And Ron Weasley?"

"They…are in another car. I was late to Kings Cross and couldn't find them in time…I suppose I'll just see them when we arrive at Hogwarts." Hermione could feel the anger churn inside at the mention of the red headed wizard and she quickly wished to change the subject. "Well…what are your names?"

"My name is Gertie and this is my twin brother Trevor. We're so excited to finally start Hogwarts and learn to be wizards! I am most excited to learn about potions and charms!"

"I hope to see some dragons!" Trevor shouted proudly.

The high-pitched sound of the young boy's voice hurled itself against Hermione's already throbbing eardrums. Her hangover showed no sign of waning and these two overly inquisitive children were certainly not helping. She shut her eyes tightly hoping to drown out the eager voices of Gertie and Trevor.

"Is headmistress McGonagall nice?" Inquired Gertie.

Hermione placed a hand upon her forehead and sighed. "For the most part…though she can be a bit strict…best to be on your best behavior when you're around her…I'm sure you'll see her at the welcome feast and sorting hat ceremony tonight."

"Gertie here wants to be a Hufflepuff, and I want to be a Gryffindor like you!"

"Well I can only hope that the sorting hat is in both of your favors tonight…not to be rude but I am not feeling very well and would love a chance to get in a nap before we arrive. Is that alright?"

The two children nodded and resumed their hushed chatter of excitement over Hogwarts.

Hermione settled back and tried to assume a comfortable sleeping position. Gertie and Trevor had reminded her so much of herself, Harry and Ron on their fateful first ride upon the Hogwarts express. It felt like a distant memory now. Those days were long gone.

All that mattered to her now was Fleur Delacour.

* * *

The cavernous walls of Great Hall had made Hermione feel rather claustrophobic tonight. A mere fifteen feet from the great doors, she sat alone at the furthest end of the Gryffindor table. Her hangover had nearly subsided, but the cacophony that was the voices of the students still managed to make her head sting. She absently picked at a roll from one of the pre-feast breadbaskets lined across the massive tables, as Minerva McGonagall, the new headmistress, had announced that the sorting ceremony had ended. Gertie and Trevor, her two traveling companions had both been sorted into Ravenclaw, which made Hermione snicker to herself. From a distance she could see Ron and Harry, each with an arm around their respective girlfriends. It didn't seem like anything had changed as all four of them were chatting happily. Her lip curled in disgust as she watched Ron sloppily kiss Lavender on the mouth without any regard for public decency. Lavender's high-pitched titter of a laugh made her very skin crawl.

"Attention…may I have your attention please?" Came a loud Scottish voice as McGonagall took to the podium to speak. Everyone at once fell silent.

"Greetings to you all…" She began. Hermione spied something odd resting upon her Professor's chest. Upon the realization as to what it was, she frowned severely. A phylactery. Not even the Headmistress of Hogwarts was immune to the reaches of the Ministry. And the revered Professor did nothing to conceal it.

McGonagall cleared her throat before continuing. "It is refreshing in these times of great darkness to see that so many of you have decided to return to these hallowed walls. I will not try to sugar coat anything; things are very different now than they have been in the past. As most of you know this goes without saying; we are here in a time of war between the forces of good and evil. The Hogwarts community is still recovering from the heartrending loss of our beloved headmaster Albus Dumbledore. Honor his memory with your actions and choices. Stay true to yourselves and trust not the temptation of the darkness that is slowly trying to engulf us all. Difficult times lie ahead and all of you must be on your guard. Aurors from the Ministry will be on constant watch and please see to it that you do not disrupt their work." McGonagall paused for a moment to gaze out at the crowd. Nearly everyone wore somber features, deathly hushed at McGonagall's words of admonition. "Arm yourselves against the forces of darkness with the knowledge that you will gain within these walls, and hold on to the hope that one day this war will come to an end, and we can finally usher in a new era of peace. For now, however, let us enjoy this magnificent feast laid out before us, and revel in the comfort and support of our friends. Both old and new." She raised a goblet and gave a weakened smile.

Uproarious applause erupted from the four houses as the massive feast suddenly materialized before them. And Hermione, after pocketing another roll in her robes, slipped out of the double doors like a whisper, but not before making fleeting eye contact with Harry, who nodded in understanding. And with that she made her way toward the Gryffindor common room.

* * *

Sitting in front of the fire with the roll in her hand, Hermione absently ate and watched the dancing flames. Drowning herself in the deep visage that was Fleur Delacour, she allowed her mind to wander back into the French witch's embrace. She shuddered at the phantom contact, a chill running up her spine. Her reverie was broken with by arrival of Harry who immediately fell to his knees beside her and gathered her in his arms in a strong hug.

"I've missed you." He murmured, burying his face into her hair.

Tears threatened to roll down her cheeks as she whimpered back. "Me too Harry…me too…"

"I know you're a good person 'Mione. I don't believe for once that you've done what Ron and Gin accuse you of. Please, please tell me that I'm right…I—I think the world of you…you're a selfless person. You wouldn't do this for the wrong intentions."

Hermione swallowed hard, debating the situation at hand. She could not betray Bill's secret, but at the same time felt an overwhelming need to mend Fleur's tarnished image…she also desired to tell Harry exactly how Fleur was making her feel…she couldn't bear to hold in these wonderful feelings…how she was slowly but surely falling hopelessly in love with the fair-haired witch.

"I…I can't tell you the whole story…but what I will tell you is that Fleur and Bill's marriage is one of convenience. That is to say, they each agreed to the marriage to help one another."

"Why would they do such a thing?" Harry looked perplexed.

"For reasons that are purely financial." Hermione lied.

"Really?"

"They met while working at Gringott's and became good friends. Bill really had wanted to be out of the Burrow and Fleur was down on her luck trying to make a life for herself in England…Bill knew that if they married, they could collect a sizable dowry, and the deed to Shell Cottage. With few options left, Fleur agreed, and they eloped shortly thereafter. They encourage each other to seek out lovers as they further their careers. Fleur and I grew close; as she single-handedly kept me sane throughout those weeks we spent at Shell Cottage. With Ron's ever mounting ill will against me, she was always there to give me a shoulder to lean upon. We grew close and well…I suppose I came to find that I fancied her more than just a friend. To my delight she did too." The last admission came with a blushing smile from the brunette.

"Where was Bill during all of this?"

"Oh he knows about us…if that is what you're asking. In fact none of this may have happened if it weren't for him. How ironic isn't it? He has a girlfriend of his own living in London…I wouldn't be surprised if he were there with her now."

Harry smiled wide. "Well…you and Fleur are radiant together. I saw how happy she makes you, even before you became…ummm girlfriends." Hermione chuckled as he stumbled on his words. "I have to tell Ron and Ginny! Make them realize this was all a big understanding! They'll listen to Bill! We can go back to how things were!"

Hermione took Harry by surprise, as she shouted "_No!"_

"_No?_ Hermione I can't bear to not have you with us…Lavender is a nice girl and all but she gets a little insufferable at times. I just miss your company so much. Why wouldn't you want to try and fix what we had?"

"Honestly Harry do you _really_ think they're going to believe you?" He thought for a moment and shook his head no. "Ron's true colors have been shown to me and well…I think his actions has set our relationship, or lack thereof, in stone. Ginny…she surprised me, I'll admit. But to tell you the truth Harry, after the way they have treated me, I don't want their friendship. _Especially_ Ron's. Ever again."

Harry swallowed hard. "You know that people are already saying terrible things about you. When people ask us why you are not hanging out with us, Ron has spared no details in telling nearly everyone that you have taken it upon yourself to break up his brother's marriage and that you are a…"

"Lesbian." She deadpanned.

"Right. That. I guess I never knew how badly people took to that. Not once have I had a problem with it. I even had my suspicions about Dumbledore whenever he spoke of Gellert Grindenwald…For that you both are very brave." He shook his head in anger. "Gods Hermione I want to stop these vicious rumors about you!"

"So stop them." Hermione sighed.

"But…but…I-I can't believe that you don't care!" He stammered, avoiding Hermione's previous statement. This did not go unnoticed to Hermione, whose patience for _The Boy who Lived_ was slowly beginning to wear thin.

"Harry if there is anything that I've learned over these past few weeks it is that I don't give a _damn_ about what people think of me. I'm done caring. You hear me? Done." Hermione said biliously. "As long as I have you and Fleur…that's enough to keep me going through this year. Come what may. Lord Voldemort, the war, the death eaters…when things get tough, you know that I'll be here for you. Any help, any leads don't hesitate to ask me. You and Fleur are the only family I have left...and you know that I would take a killing curse to the heart for both of you…"

Harry hugged her tighter, sniffling back tears of his own. "I'll…keep what you've told me a secret then. I promise. I only hope that you and Fleur find happiness together…Merlin knows you both deserve it." He let go of the brunette and slowly got to his feet. "I should return to the feast, the others will wonder where I ran off to. Are you sure you don't want to come with me?"

"That's alright Harry. I nicked a roll before I left. And I'm almost certain that my mere presence in the Great Hall would sully the already lively decorum of our classmates. I'm going to get my books ready for tomorrow's classes and probably just go to bed."

"I love you Hermione. I always will…never forget that." He gave her his lopsided grin, though she could see the sadness in his azure eyes.

"I love you too Harry." She smiled as she stood, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek. "I'm sure I'll see you in class tomorrow." He started to leave before she called out to him once more. "Might I borrow Hedwig? I'd like to send Fleur a message if that's alright."

"Of course Hermione." With that he nodded and exited the common room. Hermione made her way to the girl's dormitory where she sat upon her bed and pulled out a quill and roll of parchment, quickly penning a message to Fleur.

_Hello Baby. _

_Miss me already? _

_I've only been at Hogwarts a matter of hours and already I want to leave. Ron has apparently been hard at work tarnishing my reputation and it looks like Harry is the only friend I have left here. However, even he still runs back to Ron and Ginny's side. I suppose I cannot blame him' I know it is in his very nature to keep everyone happy…no matter how fruitless. But that's all right, as I have you both to hold on to. _

_Oh Fleur. My bed feels so empty without you in it, and I'd give anything to hold you in my arms again. Sorry for the use of such blatant clichés, but my dear, my heart, it ACHES for you! The pain, it renders my tongue numb and I must rely on such blasé phrases to express how I feel! My grasp of the English language, it falters without you near. Rescue me!_

_I am counting down the hours until I see you again this Friday. I hope I am able to contain that excitement and focus in all of my classes tomorrow! _

_Stay safe my darling and I will see you in my sweetest of dreams and of course, this weekend._

_xoxo,_

_Hermione_

_

* * *

_

The rest of the week was tense for Hermione, and the weekend couldn't come fast enough. Each night she would toss and turn. She found it difficult to eat or sleep…and worst of all she couldn't dream. But that did not stop feelings of intense longing for the French witch from invading her thoughts throughout the day.

Much to the surprise of her Professors, Hermione had elected to sit in the rear of her classes, occasionally raising her hand, but not nearly as often as she had done in the past. At lunch she opted to take her meager meals in the dormitories or outside in the courtyards. Anything to avoid the judgmental eyes of her peers.

When Friday finally did arrive, her classes seemed to drag at a snail's pace. The trip to Hogsmeade was due to leave at five o'clock, under the escort of the Aurors of course. Currently she sat in the rear of her Defense Against the Dark Arts class, watching Severus Snape pace slowly back and forth, explaining something with a low drawl. "Turn to page 600 please…"

The resulting orchestral rustling of pages interspersed the apprehensive atmosphere of the classroom.

Hermione's eyes nearly fell from their very sockets as she read the title of the chapter they had turned to.

_**TELEKINESIS:**__** The Dark Art of Mind Movement**_

She looked up to gape at the greasy haired Professor who pursed his lips to ask a question of the class. "Who can explain exactly what the art of telekinesis is?" As if on cue Hermione's arm shot ramrod straight in the air.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes Miss Granger."

"The power to bend and manipulate physical matter with the use of only one's mind. Put bluntly, the ability to perform magic that is both wandless and nonverbal."

Snape turned toward the class. "Imagine if you will, the immense power to strike at your enemies before they can even register that you are a threat? The ability to set the world a flame by merely_ thinking_ about it…telekinesis is a dark and powerful ability that very few possess."

"But Sir," called out Seamus Finnegan from somewhere to the side of the classroom. "Professor Flitwick had taught us nonverbal and wandless magic!"

Snape's lip curled into a sneer. "Interrupt me again and it shall be you who is wandless Mister Finnegan." His head snapped forward to face the class as a whole.

"Yes, many witches and wizards can perform very straightforward telekinetic spells, this is true, but often the power of spell craft must pass through a focused conduit; be it your wand or the very tips of your fingers." He rolled his fingers into a fist.

"A truly telekinetic witch or wizard need only _think_ about what spell they so wish to perform. No matter how great, or how terrible their intentions may be…they can do it without moving a single muscle." Nervous eyes flitted from left to right as the students became visibly distressed by the information.

"Many of the most notorious wizards and witches in our history were gifted with this ability. For example..." He turned on the decrepit projector in the middle of the room and a picture of an elegant woman of obvious royalty came into focus. "…the infamous sorceress Countess Elizabeth Bathory of Hungary would levitate and mutilate her victims while casually lounging in a bathtub, waiting to bathe in their blood…believing it would help retain her youthful beauty…" All of a sudden Hermione felt tremendously nauseous, and her gut churned painfully inside of her. Others around her made retching noises as a rather gruesome painting of the countess in a blood filled bathtub came up on the screen. "She was never convicted of the murders as none of the witnesses on the muggle court ever saw her using a wand or uttering an incantation. As you can clearly see…this is a dangerously powerful ability to possess."

"However," Snape continued. "…very few truly telekinetic wizards are still extant as the skill is hereditary through some of the oldest magical bloodlines. Many of which are nearly extinct. And beyond that, a telekinetic spell is tremendously strenuous on the human body, many finding themselves on the brink of death from exhaustion after attempting to cast a single spell."

Hermione's heart plunged into her the pit of her stomach at the words. She looked down into her open palms, deeply conflicted about what she was hearing. Her hands suddenly became clammy, and sweat poured down her back. It never once occurred to her the deep ramifications of her newly discovered ability. Instantly thousands of questions and doubts flooded her mind. She could recall the look of terror on Ron's face as she had repelled his attack on her back at Shell Cottage with only the power of her mind. Though he currently sat a few rows ahead of her, his stiff position did nothing to tell her of his own thoughts on learning about this art.

Mentally she noted that she must owl her parents later…clearly there was something they weren't telling her.

* * *

Hermione scoured the crowded tavern for any sign of the blonde haired witch. The tables were awash with the vibrant colors of the four Hogwarts houses. Wandering eyes all over the pub fell upon Hermione as she made nearly two laps around the dining floor. A sharp pain in her shoulder nearly made her fall forward as she collided with Lavender, who was balancing four frothing mugs of Butterbeer…two of which had spilled on Hermione's crisply ironed blue oxford.

"Hey are you alri—oh it's you." Said Lavender with a sneer. "Look what you made me do you clumsy oaf!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and groaned. "Blaming me for your own lack of coordination are we? How unbecoming; I do so hope that _ickle Ronniekins_ didn't see." She snapped at the wide-eyed girl, her upper lip curled into a snarl.

"What're you doing here anyway? Can't you tell when you're not welcome?"

Hermione gazed around the once boisterous room once more; it was now practically silent, with nearly every young patron there staring at the scene unfolding between the two young witches. Hermione swallowed hard.

"Oi Lav, you ok? What's taking so long?" Someone shouted from the far end of the tavern. Tensing instantly Hermione recognized Ron's voice. A chair slid loudly across the floor as Ron stood and made his way toward Lavender. He and Hermione locked stares and he stopped mid-stride, lips curled up in disgust. "You stay away from her, you hear me?" He snapped at her. "I don't care what kind of demon you are but keep your hands off of Lav."

Angrily Hermione tore off her sticky wet oxford, and threw it at Ron. He swatted it away wildly midair as if he were trapped in a writhing swarm of bees. She had on a black tank top underneath, and the now bared muscles of her arms were tensed. "Where is she?" The words slid through tightly gritted teeth.

"Who? Phlegm? She left ten minutes ago! Turned and ran once she saw us here."

With that Hermione tore out of the restaurant and ran as fast as she could through the small village. Narrowly avoiding twisting her ankle on the cobble stone street, she snaked her way through the throngs of people walking past the shops. Finally she had reached the clothier's, and soon noticed that one of the small bay windows on the second floor was slightly open; she called out Fleur's name. The quarter-Veela materialized in the window seconds after, her raw tear stained face erupting into a broad smile. "Oh 'Ermione!" She cried as Hermione burst through the front door of the building and raced up the stairs three at a time until she swung open the door to the small flat. Closing the space between herself and her girlfriend was achieved in three long strides and her lips claimed Fleur's, kissing her deeply. The force of the kiss caused them both to tumble onto the nearby daybed; Fleur straddling Hermione. "I missed you…" Fleur moaned into the brunette's ravenous mouth.

"Mmm…me too…" They finally pulled apart after a few more minutes of heated kisses and touches. "I looked for you at the Three Broomsticks darling…I started to believe you stood me up!"

"Non, non! I was 'zere for about five minutes before Ron and 'zat girl Lavender arrived. 'Zey did not speak to me, but I could clearly see 'zem at 'zere booth which was so close to my own. 'Eet made me feel so uncomfortable, so I left. I suppose I should've waited for you to arrive…"

"Hey now…it's alright…I'm here now baby, that's all that matters to me." She kissed Fleur softly in reassurance.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, softly touching one another and exchanging the occasional kiss. The stress of the week had suddenly lifted from Hermione's shoulders as she lost herself in Fleur's piercing blue eyes.

Fleur broke the silence first. "So 'ow did your first week go?"

Hermione shrugged. "Everyone in the castle is preoccupied with the impending war…they have Aurors stationed everywhere. The death eaters have been quiet lately, but McGonagall isn't taking any chances. As for my classes, they're exceptionally boring this year I'm afraid. I'll have to bring more novels with me to prevent me from dying of ennui. Oh and nearly all of Gryffindor looks at me like an outsider…no thanks to Ron and Ginny I'm sure…"

"Surely 'zere must be somezing good 'zat came out of 'zis week."

Hermione paused for a moment. "There is one thing I find rather peculiar…"

"And what 'eez 'zat?"

"Well Professor Snape suddenly has me doubting everything I once believed about my past. I really need to talk to my parents."

"Oh, I remember Monsieur Snape! What a 'orrible man 'e 'ees! What did 'e say to you?"

"That's just it, he didn't insult me at all…we covered an interesting topic for our first defense class…telekinesis." Hermione paused a moment. "Remember when Ron attempted to stupefy me outside of the cottage and I was without my wand?" Fleur nodded, and Hermione continued with added enthusiasm and gesticulations. "Well something incredible happened in those fleeting moments…my entire body became tense, and as if time itself slowed to a crawl, I suddenly was aware of everything around me. I could see the spell itself coming at me and knew of what I must do to stop it…so in a moment of intense focus upon the protego incantation…I repelled it! To the point where it turned upon Ron nearly hitting him!"

"Oui…I remember…'eet was a little frightening I'll admit…" Fleur sighed, holding onto Hermione tighter. "But what does 'zis 'ave to do wiz your parents?"

All of the enthusiasm from before had been drained from Hermione's now sobered tone. "This ability…it's hereditary."

"Maybe 'eet was a, how you say, fluke! A moment of intense anger gave you 'zee power to do 'eet!"

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she concentrated her gaze upon Fleur's half empty wine glass on the far coffee table. Her mind became clear once more as she mustered the desire to levitate the glass, repeating the incantation over and over in her brain. Her heart rate became slower and more pronounced, the blood flowing slow and steady through her now dilated veins. _Wingardium…Leviosa… _Her entire mind strongly focused on the two words. The glass began to rattle and steadily float in the air. She remained statue-still and her eyelids clamped shut. Fleur sat completely mesmerized…watching as the glass now floated effortlessly toward her hands, the wine within it barely moving. She grasped at its stem gently and let out a loud gasp.

Hermione's eyes fluttered open and she started to heave ragged breaths, feeling as if she had just run a mile...or seven. She then collapsed against the blonde witch, who began to curse loudly in rapid-fire French.

* * *

The rich smell of coffee brought her back to her senses. Carefully, Hermione propped herself up on her elbows, and groaned loudly through the entire process. Fleur came running at the sound, and practically jumped upon the couch behind the brown haired witch, offering a supporting hand behind her back.

"Ugh…I feel like I just got run over by the Knight Bus…twice…" She sighed, bringing up a hand to rub at her throbbing head.

Fleur, who had taken out her wand, pointed its tip at Hermione's temple and muttered under her breath in French. Seconds later Hermione's pain subsided and she returned a gracious smile toward her partner.

"You were out cold for at least an 'our…promise me you won't try to do 'zat again…please…I was so scared, I wasn't sure what to do!"

Snape's words of warning echoed through the younger witch's mind and she suddenly blanched.

"At least did you see what I was trying to show you! Why do I have this ability? If what Professor Snape taught us is true, I_ shouldn't_ be able to do this!"

Fleur thought for a moment and shrugged. "'Zen perhaps you are not 'zee muggle-born witch you believe yourself to be…"

Hermione's eyes widened. "I need to owl my parents…they're hiding something from me. I just know it. I…I shouldn't possess this skill if I am truly muggle-born!" Fleur nodded in agreement.

"Oui, and while I also 'zink you should, for now you need to relax. You have just woken up; any more excitement might put you out even longer ma belle!" She kissed Hermione softly. "I shall get you a piece of parchment in due time, but can we just cuddle for now? I 'ad a long day at work today, and 'ave wanted nuzzing more than to be 'eld by you."

Hermione grinned. "I think I can handle that request sweetheart…" and she gathered the French woman into her arms, gently stroking her flaxen hair. Fleur sighed contentedly as she snuggled into Hermione's embrace.

Hermione, however, was miles elsewhere, brimming with ire.

* * *

**A/N 3**: Just realized I had anonymous reviews disabled and I turned that stuff back on! So to you my dearest Anon, I am deeply sorry, and please feel free to leave some luv!

til next time...ttfn tata for now!


	8. Places You Have Come to Fear the Most

**A/N:** Special thanks to **Yoshiyuki Ly** and **Black Fang 02** for including 'Monster' in their respective communities! Hooray acceptance!

And big ups to every one of you that has left some luv. :D You may not know it, but your comments have actually helped me fix up some later parts of my little monster (as I've come to call my fic). And of course for all of the well wishes! I have to scale back my training for this week (which is partially why I'm able to post this Chap so quickly) since my right Patella has been starting to hurt after I hit about mile 7-8 on my long runs. Sucks! So naturally I've got a hot date with the pool lap lanes at the Y this whole next week.

**A/N 2:** Just a warning: rough language lies ahead and I suppose some of this could be sorta NSFW? I dunno I'm not good at warning people about things. XD

Bring on the darkness baby!

* * *

"Happy Birthday Hermione dear!" Mr. Granger shouted while clapping his hands loudly, gathering his daughter into a big bear hug. Hermione and Fleur had just apparated to the Granger household mere seconds before. "Your mother is in the kitchen! Come in, come in! Take a seat!" Hermione, who held onto Fleur's hand tightly, guided the French woman into her parents modern home. Mr. Granger led the couple into the sunlit parlor with great exuberance.

They sat side by side on the parlor loveseat, both appearing slightly uncomfortable. Earlier that day, Hermione had gone to Headmistress McGonagall asking for a day off to visit her parents for her birthday. Though at first a bit nervous about the whole idea of the young Gryffindor leaving the safety of the grounds, Minerva reluctantly agreed so long as Hermione was back within a day. Naturally her first stop was to collect Fleur from Hogsmeade as Fleur expressed the desire to treat Hermione to a birthday meal in a fine London restaurant after they were done at the Grangers.

They both dressed up nicely for the occasion. Fleur was stunning. Before they had left for her parents, Hermione felt like she had been punched in the gut as she drank in the sight of the older woman. It knocked the breath right from her lungs. Fleur wore a blue pencil dress that hugged her curves like a lover, her breasts nearly bursting through the buttons, and a matching pair of flats. She had also straightened her hair, its luster even more accentuated in the soft daylight streaming through the windows. Hermione opted to wear a pair of black cigarette pants with a white t-shirt and small black vest. Her wavy hair was tucked into a low bun, underneath the herringbone hooligan cap given to her as a gift by Fleur earlier that day. Despite the decision to forgo any glamour charms, they both looked extremely attractive, and Hermione found it to be rather difficult to stop her eyes from wandering down into the valley of Fleur's breasts.

"Would you care for a drink Miss…" Her father started with a big smile, while standing in front of Fleur.

"Oh! Delacour. Fleur Delacour."

"Yes! Miss Delacour. Would you like a drink?"

"Oui. A glass of Merlot 'eef you 'ave 'eet."

He turned toward his daughter. "'And for you Mione?"

"Just a cider please."

They sat together chatting amiably for a few minutes, absently picking at some small watercress sandwiches placed on a tray. Hermione was a bit unsure of how to explain Fleur's presence in their household, so she settled on saying 'she's an old friend'. It wasn't exactly far from the truth in her mind.

"'Mione!" Mrs. Granger suddenly appeared from the far door and ran over to hug her daughter tightly, smothering her with kisses. "Happy Birthday dearest! Did father give you your present yet?" Hermione shook her head.

Mr. Granger beamed proudly and produced a business envelope from his coat pocket. Nothing was written on it and carefully Hermione tore it open. She blanched when she saw what was inside. "Dad…this is…a_** lot**_ of money." With shaking hands she pulled the check from the envelope and passed it to Fleur, who gasped in surprise. Mr. Granger gifted his daughter nearly ten thousand pounds.

Her mother was clapping her hands wildly, and the brunette flinched at the sound. "Buy yourself something nice won't you dearest?" Her father smiled proudly despite the unreadable expression now on Hermione's face.

"And that's not all…there's one other surprise…" Mrs. Granger looked as if she were going to positively burst from excitement. Mr. Granger met the gaze from his wife and gave her a quick nod, as if they were quietly going through a countdown.

"We're having a _**baby!**_" The Grangers said joyfully in unison. For the briefest of moments Hermione believed she was in the midst of a nightmare, and merely gaped at her parents. She suppressed the urge to pinch herself.

"Excuse me…?"

"I'm pregnant dearest, we just found out two weeks ago! You're going to have a baby brother or sister!" Her mother squealed.

Fleur decided to speak on behalf of Hermione, seeing as the brown haired witch was visibly paralyzed by the revelation. "Oh Mademoiselle Granger…'zat 'ees wonderful! _Félicitations_!"

"Hermione?" Her father probed, with hint of displeasure in his voice.

Hermione shook her head. "Oh! Uh, yes, congratulations Mother…I'm…very, uh, excited." The young witch nearly deadpanned, much to the astonishment of her parents.

Mrs. Granger looked crestfallen. "What's the matter dearest, aren't you excited for us?"

"Yes. Quite." She desperately wanted to avoid the topic. "Although there is something I've been meaning to ask you both…" She paused for a moment looking into both pairs of anxious eyes. She could feel Fleur's hand gently squeeze her thigh in encouragement. "Recently at school…I discovered that I have a particular _talent._ And this talent is apparently…hereditary. What I'm trying to say is…I think you might both be squibs…that is to say, a muggle born to a wizarding family."

Her father cut her off with a wave of his hand. "'Mione you know we don't like the use of that _derogatory_ term in our household."

"_Muggle_ is not derogatory father…but if you insist, I shall refrain from saying it. I am afraid that you've been keeping something from me…one of you must have had magical family members…I know it! Otherwise there's no explaining where this skill has come from…_**unless**_…" The realization stung like a razor sharp knife plunged into her heart.

An overwrought silence fell like lead upon the room. Hermione's rapidly increasing heartbeat sounded like a crashing cymbal in her head. Fleur snaked a reassuring arm behind her back as Hermione studied the now stoic expressions both her parents were wearing…and without warning Mrs. Granger began to sob deafeningly, crumpling like paper into her husband's arms. A despondent Mr. Granger could only nod.

Her face contorted into a foul grimace. "You're completely serious aren't you…_**you are not my real parents**_…"

Her father stopped her mid-sentence. "Not your _**birth**_parents…no…but we raised you from when you were an infant and have always treated you as if you were our true flesh and blood. You know that 'Mione…your mother and I love you very much."

Rage was effervescent in the young witch as she dug her nails into her palms. "Tell…me…_**everything**_."

"It's true…we took you in after many attempts to have our own child. The sisters at the local church had found you on their doorstep one night, wrapped in a blanket…no explanations for how you had gotten there. We thought our prayers had been answered when we attended service the following morning, and we took you home immediately."

"Father, did I have a birth certificate? Is Hermione even my real name! _**DAMNIT!**_" She practically bellowed.

He flinched and nodded. "Yes…and no. There was no birth certificate…but a scrap of cloth with the name _Hermione_ embroidered on it was pinned to your blanket. We thought it was a very elegant name so we didn't change it…"

"The sisters knew nothing of my birth parents?"

Mrs. Granger now sobbed even louder. "Your birthmother is dead…whoever she was…she died in childbirth." Now it felt as if she were being stabbed in the gut.

Hermione was seething mad, she spoke her next word slowly and deliberately, annunciating every acidic syllable. "Didn't you _just_ say there was _no_ explanation as to how I got there?" Her teeth were now clenched and bared.

Her father spoke once more, waving his hands in the air. "Well…one of the sisters…she _claimed_ to have spoken to a cloaked man who was seen walking away after they found you…and all he had said was '_Shame…about the mother…'"_

That was the last straw; Hermione began to feel claustrophobic as if the very walls of her would collapse and swallow her whole at any minute. She wanted to run, scream, hurl her body against the walls until she could break free of this lurid discovery that was slowly coming to fruition. Fleur fretfully gulped down the rest of her wine as if she were taking a shot of liquor.

"This was a great _**fucking**_ birthday." The young witch snapped, rubbing her temples furiously. "I suppose the next thing you're going tell me is that this handsome check you have given me is, let's say, an early graduation present, perhaps even money for a few months rent, and oh, that my room should be completely cleared out for the baby by the end of this month. Toss me back on the damn steam engine, whisk me back to the _**fucking**_ Burrow to be raised by another _**fucking**_family while you both go on being successful!"

Mr. Granger, now visibly angered, pointed a finger at his daughter. "Now Hermione…the Minister of Magic has sent a word of warning to all…non-magical families of magical individuals…saying that this war poses as huge threat to our safety. And we feel that for our wellbeing, and that of the baby's we should…distance…ourselves from you until this conflict has come to an end."

"Hermione!" Her mother screamed between sobs. "Have you no idea how frustrating it is to possess knowledge of such dangers that we are forbidden _**by law**_ to speak of with our own friends?"

Hermione could only scoff and roll her eyes. "Though it's perfectly acceptable for my safety to be jeopardized…as it so currently is."

"'Mione I…" Her father began only to be interrupted by an unexpected tempest of shredded paper as Hermione violently tore the check to shreds and threw it in his direction.

"Keep your _**fucking**_ charity! _**I don't want it**_!" She jumped to her feet and started to frantically pace. Blood trickled from in between her fingers as her nails had broken the delicate flesh of her palms. Fleur reached out with both her arms in a feeble attempt to calm the now livid young witch.

Facing her father and mother, Hermione shot them a look of pure, unadulterated hatred. "You needn't worry about me anymore…I'll be out of your hair in no time, and most likely dead by the end of term thanks to Lord Voldemort. Though I'm sure you'll share my memory with your new little _miracle._" Hermione felt the familiar sensation of her mind abruptly becoming clear. Her heartbeat slowed to a crawl. Anger boiled like lava inside her, and the eruption was imminent. _Reducto…__**REDUCTO!**_

Without warning all of the mirrors and windows of the parlor disintegrated into a snowstorm of shards and a cacophony vibrated the walls. _**REDUCTO!**_All along the walls various photo frames, decorative plates, porcelain pots and figurines all exploded one by one, shrapnel flying every which way. Her mother let out a bloodcurdling scream and her arms flew to shield her eyes.

"'Ermione please stop 'eet! Merde!" Shrieked Fleur with tears rolling down her cheeks in torrents. She pulled at the young witch's vest, another weak effort to get the fuming witch to sit back down.

"That's enough Hermione!" Bellowed Mr. Granger now rising to his full height. "I've long been tolerant of your so called _magical abilities_…but I'll be _**damned**_if you're going to tear the house apart from the inside…and by the way, just who is this…French _**tart**_you have here with you anyway?" He pointed a finger furiously at Fleur. "And where is that boy Ronald you were dating…and your friend Harry?"

Drawing dangerously close to Mr. Granger, she stared him down with narrowed eyes. "Call her that again and it won't just be the glass that breaks." She said slowly through gritted teeth.

_**CRACK! **_

Mr. Granger's open palm connected brutally across Hermione's face, whipping the girl's entire body to the ground in a heap. Fleur immediately fell to Hermione's side, easing the brunette into a sitting position. "Mon amor! Are you alright!"

Mr. Granger, visibly stunned by his actions, opened his mouth to speak once more but rapidly went colorless as he could begin to hear…laughter. Loud maniacal laughter.

Hermione looked him dead in the eyes with a wicked smirk on her face. Not a speck of white could be seen as her teeth were now stained a bright crimson. Her now shattered nose gushed blood down her chin and onto her shirt. Her mirth only grew louder as she watched the man she had long believed to be her father recoil in terror.

"And so it all comes to the _fucking_ light…I've been the doting daughter you've wanted for so long…only to see it all wiped away in one…fell…swoop…the damage has been done." She had a strong yen to take a shot of arsenic for every _"I love you"_ said to her by her parents throughout her life. Before she could continue Fleur, who was now standing with fists clenched tightly at her sides, cut her off.

"Monsieur Granger…I 'ave been patient 'zis entire time…but 'eef you must know…'Ermione 'ees my _lover._ And I cannot stand idly by and watch you beat 'er…I_**love**_'er…I am utterly, madly, 'opelessly 'een love wiz your beautiful daughter." Fleur defiantly confessed. Hermione couldn't believe what she had just heard…her heart swelled tenfold in her chest, and she felt a renewed vigor at the French witch's declaration. "Strike 'er again and you will 'ave to deal wiz me as well."

Mr. Granger stared daggers at the brunette. "Get out of my house, you ungrateful brat. Take your _**whore**_ with you. Get out! Both of you." He growled and pointed toward the front door. "_**Now!**_**"**

"Not a problem…_**Mr. Granger**_." The use of his surname caused her Father to stiffen and Hermione spat a large gob of blood all onto the plush white carpet of the room. "Good luck to you and your _**child**__._"

The apparated away, leaving the stunned Grangers behind.

* * *

_Pop!_

The two women materialized in Fleur's living room, Hermione pressing the bottom of her shirt to her bleeding nose. Fleur scampered to the kitchen and returned with some towels, and she began to deftly wipe the blood from Hermione's battered face. She guided the brunette to the washroom, and gave her room to rinse her mouth and face with water. Looking back in the mirror, Hermione could hardly recognize herself. Around her crooked nose was an angry plume of black and blue, and deep dark circles surrounded her eyes. Her skin was even paler than usual.

"Let me see 'zee damage. Come now." Fleur's hands went to cup the brunettes face and positioned her head forward. The injury was substantial as Hermione's nose had swollen considerably and was even slightly askew. The French witch placed a tender kiss on Hermione's forehead before aiming her wand at the tip of the shattered nose. "Let me begin by offering you a pre-emptive apology for what I am about to do mon amor…_**Episkey**__!"_

_**SNAP.**_ The sound was sickening, as was the sensation that followed. Hermione wailed loudly in pain as her nose agonizingly corrected itself. She crumpled to the floor, clawing at her nose and began a vociferous sob, and finally a scream.

"Hush! Hush 'Ermione! Someone might 'zink I am murdering you!"

Hermione wailed and tore angrily at her hair. _**"AHHHH! MY MOTHER IS DEAD! SHE'S DEAD FLEUR! AND I DON'T EVEN HAVE A CLUE ABOUT WHO SHE IS! SHE'S DEAD BECAUSE OF ME!"**_

Fleur gathered the quaking woman in her arms, allowing her blood and tears to soil her dress. "'Eet's not your fault!"

"Where do I even begin to search for her! Gods Fleur, there's a war going on, people are dying…and all I want now is to know who my real family is! Damnit, I want to know who _**I**_am!" A pair of lips pressed hard to her own silenced her.

"You are 'zee woman I love…'zats who you are." _Kiss._ "A wonderful," _Kiss. _ "…captivating…" _Kiss._ "…woman who 'as single'andedly managed to capture my 'eart. A gorgeous woman who will not let 'zee selfish actions of uzzers to bring 'er down." Fleur now began to cry.

Hermione's rapid breathing was slowly beginning to subside at the sight of her lovers tears. They sat on the floor in silence for a few minutes, studying each other's faces slowly. The angry adrenaline rush fueled by the day's prior event was coming to an end as Hermione looked longingly into Fleur's blue eyes. "Did you mean what you said…" Hermione swallowed. "Back at my parents house…that you…love me?"

Fleur nodded. "Oui, every single word. I…love you 'Ermione…no matter who you are…" She pressed her lips to the brunette's ear and breathed seductively into it, "_Je t'aime…mon amor_" Hermione's hips bucked at the sensation, earning her yet another erotic "_Je t'aime_…" in her ears.

"Oh Fleur…I _**love**_ you…" With that Hermione melted into the blonde witch, kissing her deeply. Her tongue plunged into the French woman's waiting mouth, and she took hold of the blonde's silvery hair. Kisses blazed a white-hot trail down Hermione's neck as Fleur's lips and teeth made contact with the supple skin. Hermione couldn't take it any more; she had to lay claim to this goddess…the hunger that roared inside of her demanded to be sated…now.

They stumbled blindly across the room; mouths latched together and restless hands clawing at the other's outfit. One by one, pieces of clothes were hastily ripped from wanton bodies until they were clad only in their underwear. Fleur triumphantly straddled the brown haired witch upon the couch. Hermione's breath caught in her lungs as she could feel how wet the French witch was through the meager barrier of her silk panties. Manicured nails raked the taut skin of Hermione's stomach and nimble hands slipped under the fabric of her bra and came to rest upon the swell of her breasts. Everywhere the French witch touched her burned, and the sensation made the sensitive organs down below pulsate and dampen with desire. Fleur smiled at the brunette's whimpers, and traced the ridge down the middle of Hermione's torso. "You 'ave an incredible body mon ange…I cannot wait to taste 'eet…"

"And I, you my love…but Merlin that bra that you are wearing…it's quite a distraction…to be honest I doubt I'll be able to focus on the task at hand while you've got that on…" The brunette smiled wickedly.

"Oh 'zat will not do!" Slowly Fleur reached behind her back and undid the clasp of the offending garment, allowing it to roll little by little off her arms, finally revealing the treasures underneath. Hermione's heart ceased in her chest.

"Merlin…" The stubborn witch was rendered dumbstruck at the sight. "Those…are…" The moonlight that shone through the windows danced playfully upon the porcelain skin of Fleur's fuller breasts. Hermione felt like a mere disciple in the presence of a deity.

Fleur leaned forward nearly pressing the soft flesh into the brunettes face, and Hermione was suddenly terrified of having a seizure from all the pent up lust inside. Opening her mouth, she welcomed one of the pillow soft nipples into her mouth, swirling her tongue gently around it and nipping at it with her teeth. Fleur moaned loudly and pressed herself harder against Hermione.

Eager fingers tugged at the seam of Hermione's panties and she lightly pushed Fleur off of her. "Mmm, not enough is it?" Hermione wriggled out from under the French woman, and seductively removed the final threshold between Fleur and her rapacious desire. Fully exposed to her lover for the first time Hermione had never felt more comfortable in her life. Fleur's hungry eyes raked over Hermione's long taut abdomen that stretched like the wall of a canyon into the abyss of her groin. Pulling Fleur's naked form back against her she breathed into Fleur's mouth. "You are a goddess…A GODDESS." Fleur moaned in response. She savored the feeling of Fleur's body pressed against her own, their breasts now pressed together.

"I love you 'Ermione…" The words, though barely a whisper uttered in Fleur's pleasing cadence, resonated loudly in Hermione's head, as if someone had screamed them from a mountaintop.

And they began to make love.

Fleur penetrated Hermione deeply, both physically and emotionally. Her movements were deliberate yet gentle and Hermione suppressed the urge to cry from sheer euphoria all throughout. Whenever Fleur moved within her, it was if the very earth lurched beneath them. When Fleur finally gave her the first climax of their relationship, Hermione couldn't hold it in any longer. Tears streamed from her eyes as she cried out loud in ecstasy, her lissome body writhing as the aftershock of her orgasm traveled through her nerves igniting her every sense.

Fleur, Hermione discovered, was a very, very vocal lover.

Hermione returned the feelings to Fleur, starting with teasing kisses in the valley of Fleur's breasts, and following with a journey of feather-light kisses causing the blonde to shiver with delight. At the end of her voyage down the expanse of Fleur's body, Hermione's face hovered dangerously above Fleur's throbbing sex, her hot breath teasing the engorged skin of the organ below. Her mouth lowered finally tasting her lover at her most precious opening. Fleur bucked and flailed under Hermione's agonizingly light touch. Using her tongue Hermione would build Fleur up to her breaking point only to pause for a few seconds; sometimes giving a teasing nip or lick at Fleur's sex, or lightly blowing air on the throbbing organ. Fleur would give a carnal snarl and Hermione would cherish the blonde once more. When she finally came Fleur screamed the brunette's name, each of the four syllables positively saturated with lust. The brunette finished her ministrations with a light tug at one of Fleur's _lips_ with her teeth. Both women clung tightly to another, their bodies shiny with sweat, breaths completely ragged. Hermione placed a hand lightly upon Fleur's stomach, feeling the sinewy muscles beneath still gently quaking in the aftershock of their passion.

"Oh 'Ermione…I love you…so much mon amor… _Joyeux anniversaire."_

"I love you too…" Hermione hugged the French woman tighter and sighed contentedly. "Happy Birthday to me indeed…"

* * *

Hermione apparated into the one tiny spot in the courtyard Professor McGonagall told her was free of the anti-apparition jinx. Her appearance could only be described as disheveled as she had left her blood stained t-shirt behind at Fleur's apartment, and now only wore her black vest over her half naked torso. Bruises and bite marks mottled her stomach and arms, but she cared nothing to hide them. In fact, she wore them like a medal, skipping happily across the grounds, whistling a cheerful tune. Clutched in her right hand was an old photograph of Fleur from the Yule Ball. She saw the photo tucked away in the drawer of Fleur's nightstand and she practically begged on hand and knee to take the picture with her back to Hogwarts. Fleur relented and begrudgingly handed the photograph to the brunette. Hermione replied with a simple kiss on the cheek. The Fleur Delacour in the photo smiled warmly at Hermione, occasionally blowing a kiss or giving a coy wink. Stealing a glance, Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat; in her crystal blue gown Fleur looked like a queen.

Her joyful whistling grew louder as she approached the great doors only to have her good feeling shattered at the sight of a exceedingly concerned looking group of Order Members. Something was very, very wrong.

Stopping dead in her tracks, and scanned the group with her eyes. Hermione's stomach twisted into a painful knot at the sight of most of the Order, as well as Harry, Ron, Ginny and Lavender. A few pockets of terrified students dotted the courtyard as well. "Hermione!" Cried Harry, sprinting over to her. He gathered her into a hug. "Thank Merlin you're alright!"

"Harry…what…what's happened? Why is the Order here?"

Harry held her at arms length, speaking in a sobered voice. "'Mione…a group of death eaters attacked tonight…"

Hermione's eyes went wide, her mouth agape. "Is anyone hurt!"

Harry shook his head, and he ran a hand through his unruly mop of hair. "No oddly enough…they only attacked the grounds, which were practically vacant seeing as it's past curfew. Couple of small explosions here and there, but nothing else beyond that. Mad Eye is convinced it was all part of some sort of diversion."

She blanched. "And the Aurors?"

"They're scouring the halls, making sure none of the Death Eaters made it inside…so far things appear clear. It looks like they never made it past the front gates."

Hermione heaved a sigh of relief. "Ahh that's good…" They stood in silence for a moment, awkwardly shuffling their feet. "You all right?" Hermione muttered quietly.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Bit rattled, but I'm OK. You?"

"Can't complain. Things are certainly different from what they used to be…but I'm getting by." Another discomfited pause passed as Hermione was at a loss for what to say next. "Has the Order any leads?"

Harry shook his head in a frustrating manner. "No. Nothing. This is the first we've seen of the death eaters near Hogwarts since Dumbledore…well you know. Lupin suspects that the Death Eaters are building up their ranks, whereas Mad Eye's theory concerns them falling into complete disarray. That they're simply grasping at straws."

"Disarray? Over what?"

"Not sure. He figures if they were truly at full force, they would've sacked the ministry and Hogwarts by now. Our defenses have never been weaker now that Dumbledore is gone…"

"Well, who do _you_ believe?"

Harry thought for a moment. "Neither to be honest. Voldemort carries himself with no conscience, and no thought. Tonight he merely saw an opportunity to throw us off guard. If you ask me, it is the Order that needs to build up strength." Hermione nodded. "Shame we didn't really get a chance to duel. Been a little afraid of getting rusty you know?" The two friends laughed softly, and stood silent once more, both content just to be in the other's presence despite the dangers that surrounded them.

Harry ultimately broke the silence. "Happy Birthday by the way…wanted to say it earlier…but McGonagall said you had gone to visit your parents for the evening."

Hermione nodded, trying desperately not to think back to the argument at her parent's house. "Yes…"

"Where they happy to see you?"

"Yes." She lied. She swallowed a nagging lump in her throat as this was the first reminder of her parents in the past few hours. "Thanks for the well wishes…if you don't mind I'd like to get ready for bed. It's been a long day and it seems as though you've all got the situation under control..."

As she made her way back toward the entrance of the castle, she heard Harry call out her name once more. Turning to face him, Harry gave her a lopsided smirk and gestured at Hermione's lack of an undershirt. "…how is Fleur?" He asked with a knowing wink.

She blushed furiously. "She…she is brilliant…"

* * *

Hermione was relieved to find the girl's dorm was vacant amid all of the excitement of the death eater attack. Placing Fleur's photograph on her nightstand her mind immediately returned to the hours prior, her breath catching in her lungs. She flopped down onto the bed clutching at the photograph only to feel a sharp pain in her back.

"Ouch!" She winced audibly as she had landed painfully upon something tucked underneath her comforter. Feeling around the blanket she found the large object had felt like…a book. Ripping off the blanket she was greeted by a bulky ragged tome, nearly falling apart at its spine. Bringing it closer to her eyes, she scrutinized it closely. The book's cryptic title intrigued her right away.

**Out of Darkness:**

**The Most Ancient House of Gaunt**

Something else about the book seemed odd to Hermione as she produced a neatly folded letter that had been hastily tucked within its pages. Unfolding it she saw that the note was written with an elegant flowing script.

_**Dearest Hermione,**_

_**So sorry about the attack tonight. **__**It was a necessary distraction in order to give you this.**_

_**Within these pages lies the answer you may have been seeking for so long.**_

_**In exactly one month's time we will strike once more to draw the Aurors away from the grounds.**_

_**To find what you seek, go to the **_**'shrieking shack'**_** on that same night, alone.**_

_**Tell no one. Or they will **__**die**__**.**_

_**Bring no one. Or they will **__**die**__**.**_

_**Your safety and yours alone is guaranteed. **_

_**Anyone that tries to stop you on that night will die.**_

_**Honor your true blood. **_

_**For He is watching you.**_

There was nothing else. No signatures. Nothing.

"Honor my…true blood?" She gazed down at the rotting book that had clearly once seen better days.

From behind the door the ever-increasing sounds of female voices drew nearer. Panicking, Hermione shoved the tome hastily under her bed and stuffed the parchment into her pants pocket. She took off her cap and began to fix her hair as her roommates returned for the evening. They barely regarded her, and she liked it that way. Delving into the Gaunt History would have to wait another night.

* * *

til next time...ttfn...tata for now!


	9. Who am I?

Thanks so much for the reviews! Hope this one doesn't disappoint, as things get infinitely more interesting! (At least IMO)

**A/N:** Just a friendly reminder, this is an AU fic! If there's any confusion, PM me!

* * *

Hermione welcomed the solitude of the library as if it were an old friend, as she took to sequestering herself amongst the creaking bookshelves any moment she could throughout the weekdays. Homework was finished quickly and efficiently before she'd sit with a few of what she had come to call her, '_extracurriculars'_. A quick probing dialogue with Professor Snape yielded a short list of 'recommended titles' all contained within the restricted section, allowed her reading collection to grow exponentially; most of the newly acquired books concerning the dark subject of parapsychology, meditation and of course, telekinesis. The dusty book, mysteriously given to her a few nights ago, still lay below her bed, as she still looked at the ragged tome with great trepidation. But more importantly, she was troubled and deeply conflicted. Why did the Death Eaters want to contact her? Why attack Hogwarts to give her an old history book? And the most important dilemma of all…should she turn the book, as well as the note in to the Order? Another attack was coming…but would it still just be a diversion? And the most important issue of all: if the Order _did_ intervene, would she squander the one chance to learn who she is?

She opted not to make that decision until she made light of what was contained within the books pages. For the time being, however, she was going to hone her skills of telekinesis.

Much to Hermione's delight, the world was her practice ground. In the beginning she stuck to simple summoning and levitation spells while sitting at her desk; mostly calling forth books, quills and parchment from across a short distance. Ironically each miniscule entity she moved left her feeling as if she had lifted nearly 100 pounds. The books suggested that the Witches and Wizards that were most talented with telekinesis were also of great physical condition; many of who had subjected their bodies to difficult physical trials to build strength and prove their mettle. With that she had begun to exercise more often, and, under the darkness of night, quietly meditate before bed. This peculiar nightly ritual earned her many concerned stares from her suitemates.

Throwing on a pair of shorts, tank-top and trainers, she would step outside into the thick damp morning air and go running across the vast grounds all before breakfast, careful to avoid suspicion of the Aurors. Showing up drenched in sweat without robes to breakfast, she found, was a one-way ticket to detention, as she already had earned herself three in one week. In the past this would've been completely horrible and utterly devastating, but as far Hermione cared now; it was just another opportunity to quietly continue her _'studies'_ uninterrupted.

* * *

"'Zis 'eez fascinating 'Ermy! 'Zee power to bend matter at your own will!" Hermione always found herself smiling broadly, both inward and out, whenever Fleur used the shortened form of her name; something the French woman had recently taken great delight in. The word fluttered from her lips like a butterfly eager to take flight.

It was Friday night, and the two lovers were curled up on Fleur's bed, a tangle of arms and legs after a passionate hour of lovemaking. Hermione spared nothing to demonstrate how useful her newfound skills were in bed; keeping Fleur's body aloft while her hands and mouth were free to effortlessly ravish the blonde's body was a particular favorite. Slick with sweat, Hermione held Fleur close to her chest, as if the French woman was made of gold.

The Gryffindor knew she was in love when they had established their favorite post-sex ritual…sharing a glass of wine in the kitchen, while completely devoid of clothes. Fleur had bashfully confided in the young witch that she often considered clothes to be suffocating, especially robes, and was perfectly content to feel the air on her bare skin whenever she was alone. Hermione wasn't sure if this was a 'veela-thing' or a quirk possessed by all French women. With a bit of unease at first, as Hermione was a little uncomfortable leaving the sanctuary of the bedroom while in the nude; she soon came to find it to be quite an enjoyable feeling. Soon after, they were both very comfortable with the other's body, dressing and undressing in front of each other with no issue. They fell into normalcy, and the small flat above Gladrag's Wizard-wear became Hermione's new home.

Hermione kept a small stockpile of books and parchment at Fleur's apartment and shortly thereafter was even given her own drawer in the bureau in Fleur's room. Relishing every waking moment spent with her lover, Hermione often found returning to school to be extremely difficult, as she never, ever wanted to leave. Homesickness plagued her during the school week, and she found herself falling asleep next to Fleur's Yule Ball photo placed delicately next to her head upon her pillow.

Later that evening while lying comfortably in their bed, Hermione pored over various Potions formulations, while Fleur finished up some finance reports from work. Fed up with one particularly vexing equation Hermione sighed loudly with aggravation and slammed her textbook shut. "I don't know how much more of this rubbish I can take!"

Fleur shook her head with a smile and placed a light kiss of the brunette's cheek. "Just a few more months 'Ermione…once 'zee year 'eez over, 'zen we can truly begin our lives togezzer."

"School is absolutely_ tortuous_ Fleur. I can hardly pay attention anymore!"

"But you must! You're 'zee brightest 'een your year! I do not wish to be 'zee reason you lose 'zat distinction ma belle!"

"Oh really? How do you know _you_ are the reason for my distractions?"

Fleur raised a knowing eyebrow. "I know 'zis because 'eef you were 'zinking of someone else…well we wouldn't be 'aving 'zis conversation now would we? And don't 'zink I don't notice your wandering eyes ma belle…" A smile curled the French witch's lips.

At that Hermione begrudgingly delved back into her work, fully aware of the self-satisfied grin currently on the blonde's face.

An hour had passed and Fleur was now silently slumbering while holding up one of her memos. Wand in hand, Hermione took the opportunity to silently slip into the living room, and grab one book from her bag. Curling up on the daybed amongst blankets, Hermione began to delve into the elusive book, _The Most Ancient House of Gaunt._

"_Lumnos."_ She whispered and put her now lit wand behind her ear.

Turning to the books fraying inside cover, Hermione let out a gasp at the sight of a very old stamp denoting this book's previous owned: _IF FOUND PLEASE RETURN TO THE RESTRICTED SECTION, HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY._ "Odd…" She muttered to no one in particular. "Why would a simple history book be in the restricted section?" Turning to the introduction, she leaned in closer, her eyes closely scanning the fading type.

_**Little Hangleton, now a small unassuming community, long enjoyed the distinction of being a picturesque idyllic muggle hamlet, presided over by the affluent Riddle Family. Weary travelers often spoke favorably of the hospitable nature of the town's inhabitants, lauding their kindness and selfless nature. However underneath every lovely shell, often there lies a dark interior. For in the outskirts of Little Hangleton there stood a single derelict shack, tucked amongst the overgrowth. Nailed to the hovel's front door was the rotting carcass of a great snake; as if to provide a word of warning to anyone that dared approach its entrance. Unbeknownst to the muggle townsfolk, within the walls of the decaying house lived one of the oldest pureblood families of the Wizarding world: The Gaunts.**_

_** The Gaunt family, the last true descendents of Salazar Slytherin, was at one point a well-recognized pureblood surname that had ultimately fallen into obscurity; as pureblood fanaticism and inbreeding nearly drove the family to extinction. Their vast fortune was fully squandered by the late 1950s. Most of the Gaunts were lost to disease stemming from their slovenly living conditions, or to the ills that accompanied addiction. One such member of the family would go on to become the most powerful adversary the Wizarding world has ever known: the Dark Lord Voldemort.**_

_** This book covers the mysterious and at times fascinating history of the House that had borne the darkest wizard of our time…**_

Hours passed and Hermione had consumed nearly half of the book, her attention completely hooked. The Gaunts truly were shrouded in mystery and obscurity, and for some reason this was something the Death Eaters went to great lengths for her to know about. While reading, Hermione had put together a crude family tree on a piece of parchment as there was a chapter devoted to each of the final members of the Gaunt family;

_**Marvolo**__, the grandfather of Lord Voldemort._

_**Merope**__, the daughter of Marvolo, mother of Tom Riddle Jr. AKA Lord Voldemort._

_**Morfin**__, the son of Marvolo, father of Helen Gaunt_

_**Tom Riddle Jr**__., the son of Merope, cousin of Helen_

_**Helen**__, the daughter of Morfin, cousin of Tom Riddle Jr._

She had reached Helen's chapter when she was stung by an unexpected realization. _…Honor your __**true blood**__…__**HONOR YOUR**__**TRUE BLOOD**__…_ Her fingers suddenly grew cold and clammy as she thumbed the title page that read **HELEN CLYTEMNESTRA GAUNT: The Last Hope.** Nausea ate at her stomach as she began to read the words…

_**Though the Gaunts were plagued by such vices as alcoholism, gambling and drug abuse, there was small hope for familial redemption; and it rested upon the shoulders of the beautiful Helen Clytemnestra Gaunt (1957-1979), the only child of Morfin Gaunt. Named after the ancient sorceress Helen of Troy, Helen Gaunt was poised to restore honor to her family name as she was slated to graduate at the top of her class from the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Helen was a gifted student who, like her cousin Tom years prior, had been sorted into Slytherin house. By the end of her 7**__**th**__** year the Ministry of Magic had bestowed a handsome grant upon the young Miss Gaunt, as she had made known her intentions of researching the ancient art of Telekinetic Magic. **_

_**However her life had been tragically cut short two years later as she died unexpectedly after complications from childbirth; from a pregnancy unknown to her then incarcerated father Morfin…**_

_**SLAM!**_She closed the book violently and in her haste lobbed it unceremoniously across the wooden floor as if its pages were made of acid.

It suddenly became abundantly obvious to Hermione.

Everything had fallen into place, _this _was why the book was placed in her possession. **Helen Gaunt.**

Could it be…?

"No…no, no, no, no, no…" She repeated over and over, clutching tightly at her temples. "It's not true…they're playing to my anger over my parents…that's it. This is just all an opportune coincidence. That's it…that's all. There's no way that I'm-" Rocking back and forth on her heels, she began to hyperventilate.

The soft creak of Fleur's bedroom door brought her crashing back to reality. "'Ermy? I 'eard a noise…are you alright?"

"Y-y-yes baby. Just a bit frustrated by potions. Dropped the book on the floor. Didn't mean to wake you."

"Oh 'Ermione…'Eetz so late…come to bed please?" Fleur stifled a yawn. The sight melted Hermione's heart, and she smiled.

"Just a minute love." Fleur went back into the darkness of the room.

Grabbing all of her books, Hermione took one more glance at the cover of the old book, before hurriedly shoving it into her book bag…_the shrieking shack had damn well better provide an explanation…_and she retreated to the sanctuary of her lover's bedroom.

* * *

Hermione ran.

She ran until her legs pumped acid through their veins. Every few miles, she'd stop to catch her breath, maybe stretch for a moment. Then she ran some more. The grounds at Hogwarts were vast and wide reaching, with a seemingly endless network of roads and trails. Hermione wanted to conquer them all. A particular trail she enjoyed led into the depths of the forbidden woods, and eventually ended in a secluded clearing deep inside the forest. It was here that she was able to do most of her practicing. Each session bringing about the tides of her personal evolution.

Perched precariously atop a large boulder, Hermione positioned herself in a tight lotus pose, breathing in the dank air of the woods deeply through her nostrils. Clamping her eyes shut, she rested her arms on top of her thighs and concentrated on clearing her mind. She focused intently on the sounds and smells around her. Her heart slowed to nearly a crawl as she began to concentrate upon painstakingly levitating some nearby rocks into a neatly stacked cairn. All around her several smaller cairns she had built dotted the scenery, but this one was her tallest yet. At it's completion she opened her eyes and smiled broadly.

Levitation had become increasingly easier as the days went by. She moved on to other spells, eventually to transfiguration, and summoning. However these simple spells did nothing to sate her thirst for knowledge, she knew she still had to hone her dueling skills. This ability had the potential to make her lethal in combat; she needed a sparring partner, or at least a punching bag of some sort. A boggart would be nice, she thought, or even perhaps…Ron and Ginny Weasley. Immediately she shook the thought from her head and leapt to her feet, making her way back up through the hills to the castle, breakfast would end within a half an hour.

Classes became a chore as she longed to be back out practicing. Often she caught herself forgetting to bring her wand, and earning herself extra rolls of parchment for essays. It mattered little to her; she knew she could churn out superfluous statements better than anyone when it came to essays. It was just a mere delay. Throughout her classes, upon a piece of parchment, she would silently compose a list of spells she wanted to perfect telekinetically. At first this list consisted of the most basic spells:

-_Accio – nearly mastered_

_-Alohomora – have yet to try_

_-Engorgio – nearly mastered_

_-Wingardium Leviosa – nearly mastered, can now lift objects 10 stone_

_-Protego – only performed once, need to be in a combat situation_

Hermione frowned, while all of this was indeed quite useful, she knew she needed to find something to duel. And she needed to find it fast. It had been exactly one month to the day since she had received the book; the attack mentioned in her letter was merely hours away, and still she was unsure of the senders intention. Was it a trap? If it was, it was working, for Hermione was set on going to the shrieking shack that night, death eaters be damned.

"Oi! 'Mione!" Instantly Hermione shoved the list into her pocket, her blood ran red hot as she recognized the voice of Ron, now quickly approaching her in the great hall.

"What do you need?" She seethed, keeping her jaw clenched tightly. Ron took it upon himself to shoo away a group of quietly studying first years that were sitting next to the brown haired witch.

When they looked up at him incredulously he snapped, "I'm Ron Weasley, and you all better move before I make you move!" Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing and she rolled her eyes angrily. After he sat down, his gaze met hers. "Now I know we're not on the best of terms right now…"

"Really! What ever gave you that preposterous idea?"

"I need your help 'Mione, and I have no where else to turn. Slughorn, the bloody nutter, he's out to get me he is! Showed up late to class this morning and he slams me with an extra five rolls of parchment on the market value of Ashwinder eggs! I know bloody nothing about Ashwinders! Let alone what the damn things are! You gotta help me, I'm barely passing his class as it is. Come on 'Mione…be a pal."

After a deafening silence, Hermione's jaw had gone slack at some point during his begging. She was completely dumbstruck. "You're completely serious aren't you? You actually are _that _dimwitted to approach me for help with your complete and utter ineptitude and expect me to actually oblige you? After how you've been treating me?"

He gave her an arrogant smile. "Think of it as a way to regain my trust. I didn't speak to Bill yet you know…" He said perhaps a bit too proudly. She pushed her chair out from under the table violently and stood at full height, staring daggers at her former friend.

"You can just forget it Ron. Leave me alone!"

"Where're you going? Going to cry about it with _Phlegm_ now are we?"

Ignoring his jab, her decision was made abundantly clear as she stormed out of the great hall.

She wasn't going to warn _**anyone**_ about the death eaters.

Let them come.

It'd be a welcome change of company as far as she cared. Maybe if she were lucky, one of them would capture Ron Weasley, and carry out all of the hexes that she so longed to perform on him right now.

* * *

**_"DEATH EATERS! IN THE COURTYARDS!"_**

At the sound of Filch's shrill voice as he sprinted across the great hall, the room was instantly plunged into utter chaos. Students ran every which direction, slamming into one another, knocking over glasses, flatware and silverware, chairs falling to the floor with a clatter. First years bunched into huddles clutching desperately to one another, eyes bright with tears. Neville, as head boy of Gryffindor, struggled to corral the young students, but failed miserably as they flew out the large doors amongst the raging stampede of children. Only one person in the hall remained glued to their seat, hunched low over the table; Hermione. She watched the crowd carefully, waiting for the right moment to make her way out of the castle onto the grounds. A few more minutes and the Aurors will have made their way outside. Stay patient and stay low, she kept telling herself.

"HERMIONE!" Cursing inwardly Hermione looked up to see Harry standing over her, wand at his side. "Let's go, the Order should be here any minute!" He snatched her wrist and pulled her up to her feet, and she followed him out the large doors only to arrive at a smaller group of people she didn't want to see.

"They're back again? Why!" Lavender whined. It took every meager drop of Hermione's rapidly depleting self-control to not punch the girl in the mouth then and there.

"Calm down Lav. We're all here now, let's regroup with the order outside, and make our way across the grounds. Head them off before they breach the front gates."

_BOOM! _A loud explosion rang from outside and more screams of terror erupted from the throats of scared students.

"Come on mates we don't have much time!"

Hermione instinctively pulled up the hood of her black sweatshirt and pulled tight the drawstrings as she followed the group outside.

Flames billowed from several trees on the far side of the courtyard as flashes of bright lights shot like rockets across the grass. The death eaters were fast approaching; most of them dressed in black cloaks, their identities hidden behind their ominous silver masks. Harry and Ron were engaged with three of the cloaked fiends, while Ginny and Lavender teamed up with Tonks who was trading shots with two death eaters. Hermione huddled close to the courtyard wall, her eyes focused intently on the gate, which thankfully was slightly ajar. Wand tucked into the liner of her jeans she strafed along the stones, staying completely hidden amongst the shadows. She had nearly made it to the iron gate as one of the death eaters saw her, the empty eyes of his grotesque mask seemingly boring holes into her. Frozen in her steps Hermione stared back, and her eyes flitted to the gate, as if to silently ask the cloaked figure permission to leave. To her surprise the death eater merely nodded and turned around to rejoin the melee unfolding on the lawn.

Hermione quickly traversed the distance toward the Whomping Willow in great leaping strides. She nearly fell as she was forced to deftly dodge wayward curses fired by the multitude of Aurors now scouring the grounds for any death eaters. The disgruntled tree was currently tossing around a death eater like a rag doll, eventually hurling the body to the ground where it landed in a mess of limbs. Hermione took the opportunity to make a mad dash for the one entrance she knew that lies underneath the tree's gnarled roots. The Aurors were getting closer as she managed to slip under the Willows roots moments before it wildly swatted at the Aurors. Now that she was in the cavern beneath the tree, it had suddenly become quiet, the only noise being her own nervous breathing.

"_Lumnos." _Whispering softly, she held her wand steadily aloft, the meager light just barely illuminating the dirt path leading to the hatched door of the Shrieking shack.

The shack itself was devoid of any light, and it almost seemed alive as the walls and floors groaned and breathed with each careful step the young witch took. Aiming her wand in a sweeping motion, Hermione made her way to the topmost room of the shack. As she passed several of the boarded up windows that dotted the shack's façade, she could hear the faint sounds of shouting voices, and see the even fainter lights of hexes being fired from wands. The Aurors were getting close.

Pushing open the creaking door Hermione entered the large master suite. Scanning the room with her lit wand once more, she began to grow nervous, as there was no sign of anyone else in the room. Her instincts were telling her this was likely a trap and she was completely foolish for coming here alone, but suddenly her blood ran cold as the light from her wand reflecting into a pair of eyes along the farthest wall.

"Who-who-who's there! C-c-c-come out now into the light were I can see you!" She stammered angrily, pointing her wand directly at the blinking glowing orbs. Slowly, the clip-clop of heeled shoes grew louder as the figure began a slow approach.

And there was laughter. Unmistakable, manic laughter. Hermione would recognize it anywhere.

Hermione's entire body went rigid, her blood to ice, when her companion finally made their presence known.

"_Expelliarmus!_" Hermione shrieked, the bolt knocking the mangled wand out of the hands of the intruder.

"I should have known this would be a trap…_Bellatrix._"

Now in full view, the magnificent visage that was Bellatrix Lestrange, stood dangerously close to Hermione. Wearing a short black tattered dress complete with an impossibly tight leather corset, her slick black hair fell in a straight veil down the pointed frame of her pointed face. Deep chestnut irises stared back at Hermione from under a pair of heavy eyelids. The dark witch held both arms up in a gesture of surrender, a Cheshire grin dancing on the blood red lips of her face. Her ivory skin was nearly translucent in the faint light of Hermione's pointed wand.

"I…I can't believe it…it's _you!" _Bellatrix practically gushed._ "_I feel as though I am looking at a ghost!" Bellatrix rushed toward Hermione, pressing a hand to each of the brunette's cheeks, pulling her face closer toward the older witch. Bellatrix closely examined the brunettes face, running a hand through her auburn curls. "The resemblance…my God…it's _remarkable_!"

Hermione struggled under the death eaters grip, and pushed Bellatrix away, training her wand at the woman's chest. "What the hell is going on! No harangues of _mudblood _or _filth_? Are you imperioused! Why won't you fight back!"

Bellatrix took two steps back and took another long scrutinizing look at the younger witch's face. "_Hermione_…is it really you?"

"Don't be so daft! You know that it's me! You attacked me and my…friends…in the department of mysteries a year ago!"

Bellatrix paused for a moment before beginning to anxiously pace. "Is that right? Well, I'm dreadfully sorry about that. Duty calls you know."

"What!" Hermione was utterly bewildered and she lowered her wand. "Before you decide to kill me, just tell me why I was told to come here tonight. Why do I have that old book in my possession?"

Stopping in her tracks, the female death eater gave Hermione a curious look. "_Kill you_?" Bellatrix asked, one of her eyebrows raised. "Why would I ever do such a thing?"

Hermione's lip curled into an annoyed sneer. "Because…you're a death eater, it's what you do. Killing without conscience? Prune the filth of our kind?" She shrugged.

Bellatrix walked over to the rickety bed frame on the opposite side of the room and gently sat down on it. She touched the tips of her pointer fingers together in a thoughtful gesture. "Oh dear…how do I put this…there's something that you need to know about me…"

The young witch rolled her eyes. "And what, pray tell, might that be?"

"You see Hermione…I'm your _Godmother_."

"My…Godmother…" The brunette was visibly stunned, her jaw slackened like putty. She desperately wanted to faint there and now, or wake up from this nightmare. Bellatrix nodded before standing up again.

"Oh yes…I knew your mother very well Hermione…all those years ago she had named me your godmother…but after she had gone into labor…I was told that you had died with her…but now, it is apparent that you are very much alive and I…have missed so much in your life thus far..._Helen_ would've been so proud of you." Hermione could've sworn in that moment she saw the notorious death eater wipe a small tear from her eye.

"Helen…as in Helen Gaunt…from that book…she is my _mother_?"

Bellatrix scoffed. "Surely you gathered that already silly girl! I figured it would've been perfectly clear to a witch as bright as you…you, my dear, are _Hermione Gaunt_, the last living heir of Slytherin!"

The realization hit her like a tidal wave. "But that also makes me…"

"Family to the Dark Lord himself!" Cried Bellatrix.

Bile began to rise in her throat. "This has to be some sort of nightmare."

The dark witch reached for something in her corset. "Still unconvinced?" In Bellatrix' outstretched hand lay a neatly folded piece of parchment. Unfurling it, Hermione began to tremble as the words contained upon it slowly made themselves known.

"This is my…birth certificate!" She began to read aloud, **"**_**This is to certify that a Certificate of Birth has been filed for Hermione Athena Gaunt born on 19 September 1979. Daughter of Helen Clytemnestra Gaunt (deceased) and Regulus Arcturus Black (deceased). Filed 20 September 1979."**_ She flinched as she read Regulus' name.

"Yes…my _bastard _cousin was indeed your father…they were never married…" Bellatrix snarled at the thought of Regulus. "…but your mother…oh your _beautiful_ mother…you have her eyes, her hair, oh it's as if she's still here with us!" She cried out.

Every ounce of color had drained from the brunette's cheeks. "Not only am I a Gaunt, but a Black as well?"

"_**Toujours Pur**_ my dear Hermione." Bellatrix practically purred. "Surely you didn't think for once that a pair of biblically named muggles would impart upon you a name as rich in history and as eloquent as _Hermione_ did you? The Gaunts long had an affinity for classical names."

"No…" Hermione shook her head in frustration. "But why now! Why couldn't you have told me this sooner! You say you're my godmother, and clearly you seem to care for me, but you have undoubtedly tried to murder me in the past!"

To Hermione's surprise the death eater fell to her knees on the floor, grasping both of Hermione's wrists. "Yes but only because I was unaware of your true identity at the time!" Bellatrix began to speak in a rushed whisper, practically begging the young witch for forgiveness. "The potent Fidelius charm placed upon your birth was broken a mere two months ago! For the last 19 years Lord Voldemort himself kept your identity and survival hidden from the entire _world_. _No one _knew of your true identity. He was your secret-keeper, until he had bestowed upon me the Gaunt Family History book. With that simple act, the charm was abruptly broken and _everything _was unmistakable. As if a long overcast sky had suddenly become clear! He even had your birth certificate tucked into its pages. The Fidelius charm the Dark Lord cast is bound to the text itself!" She sucked in a deep breath of air through her teeth. "I had longed for two months to finally meet you. And here you are. At long last I can see within you, your mother's beauty reformed…"

"Why would Vold—the Dark Lord do such a thing?"

The sounds outside the shack were at nearly a roar when Bellatrix' eyes went wide in fear. "Come now we must go. It is no longer safe for us to talk here. Take my arm!"

"What?"

"The Aurors, they will find us here, we must flee_! Take my arm!"_

For a moment Hermione considered running; _screaming_ for help. The Aurors would burst through the rotting doors and capture the wily death eater. Send Bellatrix back behind the wrought iron bars of Azkaban to rot. Looking into the older witch's eyes, Hermione could see not only desperation, but also compassion. Bellatrix was genuinely worried, her eyes boring holes into the young witch. With a trembling hand Hermione finally reached over and grasped onto the dark witch's forearm, and was violently pulled away from the decrepit interior of the shack.

They came to land on the vast front lawn of the lavish Malfoy Manor.

"Quickly now, they are expecting us!" Bellatrix looked down at the dark mark branded upon her forearm; it was pulsating. "He will be here any moment! Hurry!" Hissed Bellatrix, starting at a quick clip toward the front doors.

"WAIT!" Hermione nearly screamed at the dark witch. "I am about to follow you into a vipers nest. How can I be so certain that everyone in there will not simply eat me alive once I enter?"

Bellatrix frowned and spoke in a manner that was rife with fury. _**"Because if any of them so much as lay a hand on you, I will flay them first!"**_

They eyed her like wolves watching a lamb being brought to slaughter as she followed the dark witch around the enormous marble table of the dining room. She recognized each and every one of them: Fenrir, Wormtail, Yaxley, Antonin, Rodolphus, Rabastan, Crabbe, Goyle, the Carrows, and finally the Malfoys; Narcissa and Lucius. The sat still as stagnant water, their hollow eyes tracking her every movement. Bellatrix stayed very close to Hermione, eventually placing a hand upon her shoulder, easing her to a halt.

The air unexpectedly grew foul as a black cloud of smoke swirled uncontrollably around the table. None of the seated death eaters moved a muscle as the Dark Lord himself finally materialized at the head of the table. His face was even more inhuman that Hermione remembered; veins and arteries pulsated under his pallid and virtually lucid skin, his reptilian eyes held narrow appearing like mere slits, and his flat nose with equally flat nostrils opened and closed tightly with each inhalation. Hermione froze in complete and utter fear. Lord Voldemort gave Hermione a smile as he started to approach her.

"My Lord!" Lucius Malfoy stood up with a defiant shout. "We must disarm her…I move that we take the girl's wand. She cannot be trusted! We do not yet know where her loyalties lie!"

The Dark Lord looked to Hermione. "We are but mere guests in Master Malfoy's grand home Hermione, we mustn't forget our manners…go on, give him your wand."

She slowly pulled the wand from her jeans and tossed it onto the table where it landed with a clatter; Lucius snatched it hastily upon contact with the marble.

Lord Voldemort motioned toward an empty chair near the head of the table. "Please take a seat Hermione…you have arrived at a most opportune moment." He turned toward Bellatrix, who was standing amongst the shadows in the far corner of the room, her rigid appearance exhibiting no change in emotion upon being addressed by Voldemort. Her watch rested protectively on Hermione. This took the young witch by great surprise. "You have done well in bringing her here." His attention returned to the young brunette, sitting nervously amongst the death eaters. "This meeting will be brief I assure you my dear…but while you are here you must listen closely. What Bellatrix has undoubtedly revealed to you tonight, is entirely truth. You are indeed the daughter of my dearly departed cousin Helen, and by virtue of that, you are my family. My _**blood**_**.**"

* * *

**A/N 2:** Yeah, yeah, yeah a little self-insertion in this chap yes…but moreso that I think dear Miss Emma Watson's Hermy looks like she is built to run. But that's just me. XD

**A/N 3:** (Added 30 November 2010) Totally forgot to acknowledge the homage to Repo!: The Genetic Opera in this chapter. If you haven't seen it, it's an awesome movie and I'll readily admit I was listening to the soundtrack when I wrote the scene. I subconsciously fashioned it after Repo. So to "Lady Knight King of Spades" you rock and thanks for reminding me to add this little disclaimer. :)

OH and may I offer pre-emptive ups to people that know why I chose Helen's name. :D

Til next time, ttfn…tata for now!


	10. Skeleton

"…my _blood_…"

The Death Eaters released a collective gasp at the revelation. One by one they began speaking in hushed whispers amongst themselves. There came a great crescendo as their combined agitation grew considerably. Hermione dared not to move, her heart hammering in her chest in total fear. Across the table Narcissa Malfoy merely stared back, not making any effort to hide her disdain. The Dark Lord, still at the head of the great table seemed to watch the entire scene with great amusement.

_**Hermione…**_An eerily whispered voice suddenly invaded Hermione's head. Feeling as though fingers probed the very folds of her cerebrum, she flinched at the sensation. The voice was undeniable. It was Voldemort. Pain burned white hot in her skull as she could feel him pushing further. _**They are all like a pack of savages are they not? They look at you with piqued suspicion. This behavior is unacceptable at a gathering such as this. Clearly, they do not show you one ounce of respect. You should not have to earn their respect…you should demand it! Use the skills the blood of your mother has bestowed to you…gaze down upon the wastrel that is Lucius Malfoy. He does not trust you…and he deserves to be PUNISHED for it…and know this; it is only UNFORGIVABLE if you at first decide not to forgive yourself…**_

Hermione looked over at the eldest Malfoy, who watched her with a disapproving sneer. Despite everything that had been revealed that night, regardless of the affirmation coming directly from the Dark Lord's lips, she knew he still thought her to be utter filth; wholly unworthy to be seated at his overtly ostentatious banquet table. His proud face and chauvinist attitude lit a fire within her; she wanted to rip it clear off of his skull with her bare hands. Her heart beat madly at the mere sight of him. Saliva pooled in her mouth as she could feel her mind hunger to hurt the man.

Mentally she steeled herself and stoically stared back at him. Her cool exterior belied the tempest of fury that was building within as she repeated the dreadful word over and over in her mind…_crucio…crucio…__**CRUCIO!**_

Body now completely rigid, Lucius immediately slammed hard on the floor. Jaw clenched so tight it looked as though it could crack; his breath came in short desperate spurts between his teeth. Appearing as though it were being actively electrocuted, his body was thrown into a violent seizure as Hermione kept repeating the curse rapid fire in her mind. Lucius thrashed about on the floor, his eyes looking as if they could burst free from their sockets at any moment. The other Death Eaters rose to their feet, pointing their wands wildly at one another desperately searching for whoever the caster was. The Dark Lord could only chuckle. A blood-curdling scream emanated from his throat as Hermione willed the torture curse to finally come to an end. Hermione was sweating, her breath almost as ragged as his. Narcissa fell to his side and eased Lucius into a sitting position, and the man heaved the contents of his stomach directly on the floor. The Dark Lord looked down at the two Malfoys and shook his head disapprovingly.

"I think she would like her wand back Lucius…it isn't polite to take things that do not belong to you." He hissed, gesturing with one of his long skeletal hands. Instantly, all pairs of eyes were upon the young Gryffindor sitting quietly at the table. Within all of those eyes was fear. Out from the shadows, Bellatrix grinned and approached Hermione, resting a hand on each of the girl's shoulders. Hermione tensed on contact; this was the closest she had been to a death eater since the battle in the department of Mysteries. She struggled to swallow a nagging lump in her throat as Bellatrix gave her shoulders a squeeze. Struggling now upon his weakened legs, Lucius placed the wand on the marble tabletop and gave it a frail push in Hermione's direction. Voldemort watched with great interest as Hermione pocketed her wand and still remained rigid in her chair, his most loyal Death Eater hovering over the young woman like a furious lioness protecting her defenseless cub. Bellatrix could only turn her nose up in disgust as Lucius resumed his seat.

In that moment Hermione thought back to the old days, the playful banter exchanged between Harry, Ron and her. Back to the days when Lord Voldemort was just a bogeyman, just a _name_ they had been conditioned to hate. This bogeyman now stood proudly before her in the flesh, speaking to her as if she were his equal. None of this made any sense to her, nor did she think it would as time went on.

Voldemort began to pace before the great fireplace. "Things are becoming tense. The ministry expects something from us…something big. We have been lying low for a while now, but not without purpose. Lulling the boy into a false sense of security will leave him at his most vulnerable. I'm sure our new friend can agree, seeing as how she is so close to him."

Bellatrix, still standing behind her, gave her another reassuring squeeze on her shoulders, and Hermione blanched. This did not go unnoticed by the Dark Lord. "Hermione, my dear, you have only just arrived, I ask not that you swear fealty tonight. I only wished for you to know that you are not alone in this world…you _and_ your lover…_Fleur _was it? Such a lovely name."

"How…?"

"These eyes can do more than see. Do not doubt for once how far I can reach…I know of how your _friends_ have all but abandoned you…how they _spit_ upon the ground you walk. How they turn their noses upward in repugnance at your relationship. Not believing for once that two women have just the same capacity for love, as do a man and a woman. They avoid you. Even after all that you've sacrificed for them over these many years." He held a corpse like arm aloft to silence the brunette. "But I do not ask you to join us tonight. In fact, after we all depart, you _could_ go straight to the Order…warn them about us…tell them of all our plans. Stoke the ego of _the Boy who Lived,_ and the Weasel who follows like a pitiable lapdog at his heels. Keep the oppressive Ministry upon its golden pedestal, built off of the blood, sweat and tears of the witches and wizards it swears to protect." A crocodilian smile grew on the Dark Lord's face. "But we all know the law is an ass…your lover's intense beauty is marred by her phylactery is it not? The Ministry, they brand her as if she were cattle to be sent out to pasture. The Ministry claims that what it does is in the best interests of the people…but is it really? They are quick to point the blame at _us_ for our conquests, when they turn and spit upon their own. All of us seated here wish to see the damnable Ministry toppled…as it is part of our great goal to purge our world of the unworthy…and what better place to start…than its government?"

"I suppose you will _eventually_ ask me to join the Death Eaters…" Deadpanned Hermione.

"Oh no, no, no. Wouldn't dream of it my dear…besides, you are not nearly ready. Only in your darkest hour…will you finally understand. You do not yet know the immense power that your blood has afforded you. You do not yet fully realize the dire situation of this world. Or the sheer number of _traitors_ that walk amongst us…" Voldemort looked toward Wormtail, who was cowering in his seat at the far end of the great table. "Wormtail, would you kindly fetch our dinner guest?" The rodent-like man scampered off down a hallway only to return moments later with a writhing body wrapped in a sackcloth, levitated a few feet off the ground.

"Before you is one such traitor. Spewing lies upon the impressionable minds of young Hogwarts students. Lies pertaining to muggle acceptance, _mating_ with muggles, among other lies of _filth_. She has even gone so far as write an editorial in defense of _mudbloods_ in the recent _Daily Prophet._ And what's worse, she voiced a favorable opinion of the phylactery system. We have to stop this deceit from being spread, by stopping it at its_ source_." At the word he swung his arm in a large arch, and at the same time the sack around the prisoner flew off, revealing their identity.

Charity Burbage, retired Professor of Muggle Studies, struggled wildly against her magical bonds.

"Please…please! I have done nothing! NOTHING! Let me go!" Tears poured from her bloodshot eyes, as she continued to wail. Fenrir Greyback stared at the woman while visibly salivating, his tongue flicking across his razor sharp canines. "Someone help me! Let me go! Please!" Her head moved frantically, scanning each of the faces for any sign of remorse. There was none. Then her frenzied eyes fell upon Hermione.

"Hermione? HERMIONE!"

The brunette simply stared blankly back at the floating body of her former teacher, unmoving.

Voldemort's thin lips curled into a pseudo-grin. "This woman _dares_ to brand your beloved like a dog…she must be made an example of…"

"Help me! Please!" Professor Burbage screamed at Hermione, spit dribbling from her lips. "Do something _**Miss Granger**_!"

After an intense silence, Hermione frowned. "_That's not my name…"_

Voldemort's reptilian eyes flickered as he uttered the two most terrible words Hermione had ever heard, "_AVADA KEDAVRA!_" The body crumpled onto the table with the sickening sound of flesh slapping onto hard marble.

"Nagini…" Whispered Voldemort. "…dinner…"

* * *

The meeting adjourned at the arrival of the great snake that slowly made its way across the grand table toward Charity Burbage's corpse. To Hermione's surprise the Dark Lord simply disapparated, not saying a single word to the young witch. The rest of the Death Eaters had followed suit, all visibly shaken by the evening's events. Now she was left alone in the company of Bellatrix, who was still watching her with an inscrutable expression. Hermione gently pushed her chair out from under the ornate table.

Bellatrix halted the young woman with a pale hand. "Hermione, wait, before you go, there is something you must see." Bellatrix reached into the top of her corset and produced a folded piece of paper. Delicately, she placed it into Hermione's open palm as if it were made of glass. Whatever it was, it was clearly of great value to the dark witch. Bellatrix watched eagerly as the young witch unfolded it with great care. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw that it was a photograph of two smiling young women, sitting together on a couch. On the left sat a pale woman with straight ebony hair, heavily lidded eyes, supple lips and a broad smile. She wore an elegant bodice with a long flowing skirt. To her right was a smaller woman with thick wavy auburn hair that came to rest just below her shoulders, prominent manicured eyebrows and a gracefully angled face. She donned a simple flower-patterned frock and it was clear to see that the brown haired woman was well along in pregnancy, as the gentle swell of her abdomen was scarcely concealed by the plain dress.

Bellatrix breathed a wistful sigh. "This is of myself and your mother, Helen, when my family summered at the Isle of Wight for my 28th birthday…shortly before she had died. August of 1979."

What Hermione found most extraordinary was that as she gazed down upon the aging photograph, she felt as if she were looking into a mirror. Helen's features were undoubtedly her own, even down to subtle mannerisms and smiles. Even Bellatrix took her by surprise, as the now manic dark witch was startlingly beautiful. The two friends in the photo each had an arm around the other's shoulder, every so often laughing joyously together at something that was happening around them. The Bellatrix in the photo rested a hand upon Helen's pregnant belly, and Helen tenderly covered Bellatrix' with her own. Their fingers intertwined seconds later. Hermione choked back a tear, and lightly touched the image of her mother's face with two of her fingers. "She _is_ beautiful."

Bellatrix nodded sadly. "Such a terrible loss; pureblood_ perfection _hastily ripped from our world…but here _you_ are, the product of such flawlessness…so Helen's death was not in vain." The dark witch's dejected behavior throughout the evening greatly irked the young witch. She had almost seemed listless and oddly calm; completely unlike how Hermione had seen her in the past. Reaching over to return the photograph to Bellatrix she was caught off-guard when the older woman pressed the photo back into Hermione's hands. "No, it's yours. Keep it."

"Bellatrix…I…"

"Call me Bella."

"Thank you…Bella…" She cherished the gift against her chest, and allowed herself to be gathered into the arms of the hardened Death Eater. The fleeting embrace was at first odd to Hermione, for the strong arms now wrapped around her had once tortured a couple to madness, been held together by corroded iron manacles in the depths Azkaban and even murdered a man named Sirius Black, a man she now knew was her paternal Uncle. But these arms also felt warm, sincere and welcoming. Fingers ran through chestnut strands of hair and Hermione cherished the closeness, pressing herself deeper into the embrace.

When they pulled apart, Bellatrix' hands went straight to her own neck, removing her silken choker. Carefully she slid off the bird skull charm that adorned it and held it in her palm. Using her wand she muttered an incantation Hermione had never heard before, "_Loquor Specialis Unus"_ The tarnished charm glowed gently in her palm. She then pulled off a silver band from her one of her skeletal fingers. "_Loquor Specialis Duo"._

"If _anyone_ tries to hurt you, especially those ghastly _Weasel_ children, clutch the band tightly in your fist and think of me. Speak softly to the ring, and I will hear you. And they will have to answer to _me._" She hissed.

Fingers trembling, the younger witch allowed Bellatrix to place the band on her left ring finger. "Bella…this is all so new to me…you don't seem anything like who you were back at the department of Mysteries. Frankly I'm still a bit suspicious of your intentions…whatever they may be. I am glad however to know a bit more about who I am…but I still don't know who you are."

The angular jawbones of the dark witch's face twitched, as she looked off in the distance. "Who I was…was lost long ago...when your mother left this earth." She turned and faced the young witch. "It is late. And now you must leave."

Promptly Hermione conjured the image of Fleur's bedroom, and disapparated.

* * *

Hermione arrived to darkness, save for the meager moonlight streaming in through Fleur's window. The bedroom was empty but she could hear muffled voices from outside of the door.

Poking her head through its frame she was greeted by an unexpected sight. Sprawled across the daybed lay Bill Weasley, half covered by blankets, but his freckled skin was marred with numerous gashes and cuts. He was dirty and bloodied. Fleur sat by his side and was holding up one of his muscular arms, tenderly bandaging it with what appeared to be a cut up strips of a cotton t-shirt. The third person in the room, sitting by Bill's outstretched legs, was someone whom Hermione had never seen before. A dark skinned woman with jet black hair was cleaning a particularly deep wound on Bill's torso. She too, was covered with cuts, and much to Hermione's horror, Fleur was sporting four angry deep slashes across her cheek. The brunette sprinted over to her lover's side taking the French witch by complete surprise.

"'Ermione! 'Zank God you're all right! We 'eard 'zere was an attack on 'Ogwarts tonight! I was so worried!" Hermione gathered her lover into a vice-like embrace, never wanting to let go of the French witch. After the night she had, she wanted to kiss Fleur senseless, then and there.

"Yes, yes my love, I'm alright. Managed to find a good hiding spot and laid low until the death eaters left." She lied. "But forget about me, what has happened to Bill?"

The other woman looked up from her ministrations and gave Hermione a forlorn look. "He…he transformed tonight." Her accent caught the young witch off guard. It was American.

Fleur nodded. "'Ermione, 'zis 'eez Karana…Bill's girlfriend."

"You can call me Kara. Fleur has told me much about you Hermione." Now in better light, Hermione could see that her elegant face was exotic as was her deep caramel skin. Sleek sable hair fell in even pleats around her almond shaped face. Feathers and beads were woven into a few braids that dotted her scalp. Her left nostril sported a blue ring through it, and she wore an ornate choker made of shells. She drew in a deep breath. "Bill and I had met Fleur outside a bar in London for drinks tonight. That was our first mistake; we should have never left our apartment. As Fleur may have told you, I suffer from lycanthropy too…and well…Bill gave me his last dose of Wolfsbane…seeing as I had run out."

Hermione immediately looked out the open windows. The full moon gazed back down upon them through the glass. "Oh no…"

"H-he thought he could resist it…maybe he had enough dregs left in the vial to help him get through the night…as you can see, he was wrong." Kara choked back a sob. "It all happened so fast, we managed to get him to a secluded field before the transformation was complete, and struggled to subdue him. Fleur managed to knock him out with a stone before he took any really big bites."

Hermione's mouth was held agape. "Why is he here on your couch of all places Fleur? Surely you would've had him at hospital!"

Fleur absently leaned into Hermione's tense body and sighed. "We did take 'im to 'ospital. We apparated to St. Mungo's…when we 'ad gotten 'zere, we were denied a doctor."

"_Denied?_"

Kara hissed. "They took one look at him, saw our phylacteries, and turned us away. We were told the healers that deal with _people like us_ had already gone home for the night. But from what I could gather, there are not many of them anyway. Left with no options, we came back here. I'm hoping to get to an apothecary in the morning." She ran a hand through her raven hair. "I don't even know if I have enough to cover our next vial of Wolfsbane…"

"'Zee Ministry 'as increased 'zee costs of such potions as of late mon ange…for 'zee 'alf-'uman population especially."

"Did you try apparating elsewhere? Outside of the Ministry's jurisdiction perhaps?"

"In the wake of the recent Death Eater attacks on your school, the Ministry has closed its borders. No international apparation is allowed for the time being…we're stuck here in England. I can't even go home to America. Hmmph as if Death Eaters will be deterred by a simple travel embargo."

Hermione's blood was boiling now. This turbulent night had gone from bad to worse.

"This is insanity." Her head was buried into her hands. Fleur gently kissed her temple and Hermione looked up into her lover's eyes. "Fleur…may I speak to you…alone?"

Fleur gave a slow nod, her actions making it appear as though she was expecting the worst. "Oui. Kara 'eez 'zere anyzing else I can get for you?" Kara only shook her head.

"Go on…I'll give a holler if something happens."

Hermione walked into Fleur's bedroom and sat herself down upon the plush comforter. Immediately upon contact with the soft fabric, the sobs came in waves and racked her body. All of the energy and emotion she had held in for the past few hours exploded forth in a violent wail. Fleur rushed to her side and cradled the brunette in her arms. A film of tears covered Hermione's eyes as she gazed deeply into Fleur's blue ones. "Are you alright 'Ermione?"

"I'd be lying if I said I was completely unscathed." Came the weak response.

"Mon ange…" Fleur began, tenderly caressing the top of her lover's head with her fingers. "What else 'appened tonight to put you 'eento such a state? Was 'eet 'zee Death Eaters."

"They killed her!"

"Killed 'er? What are you talking about? I 'ad 'eard no one was 'urt 'een 'zee attack tonight!"

"…Ch-ch-charity B-b-burbage…He killed her right in front of my eyes!"

"'Ermy…I…"

"And I did _nothing, _Fleur, _NOTHING!_" She screamed. "I sat amongst them…as if I was one of them…I did nothing."

"Who! 'Zee Death Eaters?" Fleur was beginning to grow frustrated.

"Gods Fleur, so much has been revealed to me tonight…I don't even know where to begin!"

"'Ermione…please calm down…"

"Where to begin! First of all…my parents, as you know, they are not my own…my real mother…oh god my _godmother_…I'm gonna be sick." Hermione sprang to her feet and made for the bathroom, promptly emptying the meager contents of her stomach into the toilet with a violent retching noise.

Fleur looked at her with intense distress. "You found out who your birth mother 'eez! 'Zat 'eez…wonderful non?" Hermione washed her face at the sink. The sting of the cold water like a slap to the face.

Shaking her head in a despondent manner, Hermione returned to Fleur's side, pulling out the weathered birth certificate from her pocket. Fleur read it closely in the dim light.

"'Ermione Athena Gaunt. Daughter of 'Elen Clytemnestra Gaunt and Regulus Arcturus…_Black!_ You are a Black!"

Hermione nodded. "But they never married…I am first a Gaunt…Fleur…I…I…" She choked on the words as if they were lodged excruciatingly against her windpipe. "I promise that…I won't try to stop you from leaving me…after you hear what it is I want to tell you…"

"'Ermione my love, 'zere 'eez nuzzing you could possibly tell me 'zat would make me 'zink for once about leaving. I love you…"

"Merlin Fleur, you have no idea how happy hearing you say those words makes me feel…" Mustering a weak smile amidst her streaming tears, she kissed the French witch lovingly. "It is as you suspected…I am not a muggle-born…but a pure-blood. A amalgam of two of the oldest English blood-lines runs through my very veins."

"'Zat 'eez…good non?" Said Fleur, a bit unsure.

"Being pure-blood? That is the _least_ of my concerns. What _is _alarming is that my blood bestows upon me the great distinction…" She swallowed hard. "…of being the last living relative of Lord Voldemort himself. My birth mother…she was his maternal cousin. Helen's aunt Merope Gaunt, was Voldemort's mother." Fleur could only stare blankly back at Hermione, her expression completely unreadable. Stifling yet another inevitable wave of sobs Hermione continued. "I also learned the identity of my Godmother…Bellatrix Lestrange. The Death Eater who tortured Neville Longbottom's parents to madness…the killer of Sirius Black."

"All of 'zis…revealed to you 'een one night!"

Hermione weakly nodded. "The attack on Hogwarts tonight, it was a diversion, drawing away the Aurors so I could meet with Bellatrix in the shrieking shack. Everything was revealed to me there, but our meeting was cut short by the return of the Aurors." She paused for a moment, trying to gauge Fleur's reaction but was finding this to be rather difficult. The blonde witch sat still as stone listening intently on each word. Nothing in her demeanor indicated to Hermione yet that Fleur was going to leave her, so she continued. "We side-apparated to Malfoy Manor…that is where I finally met…Him."

"You-Know-Who?" The three words were spoken slowly and with great trepidation.

"Yes…and he confirmed Bella's story. Fleur, I sat amongst them, as if I were one of them. God…I…I even…oh God…"

"What 'Ermione…what did you do?" Fleur began to frown.

"…performed the cruciatus curse on Lucius Malfoy…oh God…" His pain-stricken face flashed through her memories and she winced. "I'd never done _anything_ like that in my life before. And the worst part of all…it felt _good._"

Fleur leaned in close, in a very serious manner. "An Unforgivable curse!"

"Yes! It was exhilarating…such a _rush_ unlike anything I've felt before. I felt powerful; like nothing could stop me! And…I did it without my wand…performed purely by telekinesis. He didn't know it was coming. He disgusted me…I wanted to kill him Fleur…kill him where he sat. Wipe the smug features from his face."

Fleur recoiled. "'Ermy…'eet frightens me to 'ear you speak like 'zis…"

"It frightens me too my love…"

Fleur leaned in closer, her tone of voice deathly serious. "Did you join 'zem 'Ermione? Did 'e mark you? Let me see your arm_! __Immédiatement!__!"_

Rolling up her sleeves Fleur sighed with heavy relief to see the supple skin of Hermione's arms were unmarred. Fleur leaned down and pressed her lips to it and at once gathered the brunette into her arms. "What scares me…is that a part of me wants to…" Fleur held her at arms length giving Hermione a dubious stare.

"'Ermione…why would you consider such a 'zing!"

Hermione turned her head, desperate to look anywhere but the blonde's pleading eyes. "They…they want to bring down the Ministry…and…so do I. The Order…they cave to the Ministry's every whim. The Death Eaters can offer us protection. With the Dark Lord…I am not sure how I feel about the ends…but the means…"

"'Zis 'eez not about 'zee phylacteries 'eez 'eet?"

"I'm sure they can help you regain your freedom! Like I said…it is only a part of me that feels this way. I'm starting to see how unforgiving this world is that we've _saved_ so many times over. He let me go…not once forcing me to swear an oath…or even to denounce the muggles. It almost felt as if he…cared about me." Hermione looked to Fleur, a wave of relief that the French woman had not once left her side. "It has felt like the entire world is against us my love…and now finally I find some answers…and acceptance…"

"I am not 'appy about all 'zat you 'ave revealed to me tonight…But knowing 'zat you are safe and wiz me…'eez enough to make me 'appy…and I am not leaving you. I know you'll 'zink 'zis 'zrough…'zee Ministry 'eez taking 'zis quite far. You are 'een a position to end 'eet…whatever you so decide…I will stand by you…just please…please be safe…you are all I 'ave left."

The Gryffindor grew incensed, tightly grasping onto her lover's soft hands. "The Ministry…the Order…the _Weasleys_…any one that has brought you harm…I want to make them _**hurt**__._ Forget about the war…I only want the _**world**_ to be a better place for _us. _I would tear down the sky for you my love."

"Oh 'Ermione!" Fleur kissed her passionately. Hermione kissed her back with every ounce of her strength, almost as if this particular kiss they shared at this very moment would be their last. When they parted Fleur spied the silver band on Hermione's hand. "Where did you get 'zis ring 'Ermy?"

"Bella…she charmed it…I can use it to call her to me whenever I wish."

"You could turn 'er 'een! What 'eez she 'zinking, giving you somezing like 'zis!"

"I don't know! She trusts me! She's…family." Hermione sighed. "I don't know Fleur…she's different around me. She has offered us her protection. And having seen her duel before…I'm glad to have it. She can keep us safe."

Fleur heaved a sigh, and looked longingly into Hermione's eyes. Fleur's fingers squeezed the brunette's as her expression had returned once more to sadness. "While we are being honest wiz each uzzer, 'zere are a few 'zings I 'ave neglected to tell you about 'zis evening's events ma belle…we didn't just face prejudice at 'zee 'ospital tonight…'zee bar we 'ad gone to…'zey…would not seat us. Claiming 'zey did not want to risk an _incident_, wiz people like us." Fleur frowned. "I suppose I am just as torn as you…"

Absently Hermione reached over with a trembling hand and traced the deep crimson scars that marred the French woman's right cheek. Four large gashes extended from near the top of her eyebrow, down across the corner of her mouth. Her lip had been split in the corner. Fleur whimpered in pain at the contact and shied away. "'Zey are 'orrible aren't 'zey? I just wish I knew some of 'zee proper 'ealing spells…"

Hermione continued her gentle caresses and slowly began to sing a melodic incantation, "_Vulnera…Sanetur…Vulnera…Sanetur…Vulnera…Sanetur…" _Soft warmth spread from the younger witch's fingertips where they probed the broken flesh, and the wounds slowly began to close on their own accord. After a few more gentle touches, all but one of the scars had completely vanished. A small notch across the right side of Fleur's lips was the only reminder of the evening's events. "It's nearly gone…if we could get our hands on some Dittany…we might be able to get rid of the final wound on your lip sweetheart." As she spoke, Fleur's attention was turned toward her own reflection in a mirror on the far side of her bedroom.

A tidal wave of adoration and gratitude washed over the quarter-veela as tears surged forth. "You truly are an angel." They clung to one another; Hermione feeling an overwhelming need to protect her lover. Her strong arms wrapped tightly around Fleur's back as if to shield her from the entire world.

"They might be able to help Bill…I'm sure I can get some Wolfsbane from the Death Eaters…maybe even Dittany. I won't lie to you Fleur, I plan to go back to them…I…want to know my godmother better…want to know more about who I am…and how I can help to stop the Ministy."

"Shhh…I trust your judgment…I promise…just please be safe." Fleur breathed into the skin of Hermione's neck.

"Oh! Here…look!" Hermione reached into her pocket and produced the photograph, handing it over to Fleur, who promptly unfolded it. "Bella had given it to me…it's my mother, Helen Gaunt. Isn't she beautiful?" Hermione murmured with a smile, leaning her chin on Fleur's shoulder. They watched the two women in the photograph in silence for a few minutes.

A joyful grin grew on the French woman's face. "Oh 'Ermy…you look just like 'er! Look mon amie, you are 'een 'zis picture too!" A slender finger rested upon the subtle roundness of Helen's pregnant belly, making Hermione smile. "And 'zis 'eez Bellatrix Lestrange? 'Zee Death Eater?" Hermione nodded. "'Zey look so peaceful togezzer."

"Yes…even Bella is beautiful here. It is a shame she has done such terrible things. It's strange, around me, it is as if she is a completely different person altogether."

Fleur looked up from the photo into Hermione's eyes. "'Zis year will not be an easy one for us will 'eet mon ange?" Hermione shook her head sadly.

Sensing the desolation in her lover's voice, Hermione wished to change the subject. "We…we should continue this conversation later my love…Kara and Bill need us…we should go to them. See if I can remember anymore healing spells" Fleur agreed, returning the treasured photograph to Hermione who pocketed the paper treasure once more. The blonde stood up extending a hand and Hermione couldn't believe it. Despite everything, Fleur was _still _standing by her side. She would take a knife to the chest for this beautiful, loving woman. She loved Fleur Delacour with every ounce of her being.

Things, she knew, were about to get very, very complicated.

* * *

**A/N:** Snuck in a line from FFXIII in there. "...tear down the sky..." **3** Oerba Yun Fang, she's kick-ass!

**A/N 2:** Race day is getting closer, so might be a week or so before the next update. Send tons of love (if you want...not that I'm egotistical and crave attention or anything XD) and hope that yours truly doesn't die of Hypothermia during the race on the 20th. Brrr...it's getting cold out there!

**A/N 3: **Totally invented the spell Bella uses to basically turn the two pieces of jewelry into communication devices. If this spell actually does exist...please let me know!

til next time...ttfn tata for now!


	11. Where is my mind?

**Enjoy!**

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* * *

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Tender hands moved a soapy washcloth over baby-soft skin, as warm water cascaded like a summer rain upon the two bodies. Hermione skillfully scrubbed away bits of blood and dirt from Fleur's body, stopping every so often to place a soft kiss on newly cleaned flesh. The blonde instinctively backed up against Hermione's front, fitting her slick body into her lover's like a puzzle piece. A whimper escaped the veela's lips as Hermione lathered Fleur's breasts and stomach, eventually continuing a journey downward along the blonde's abdomen. Her mouth nipped and sucked at Fleur's creamy neck, as bold fingers were free to skate over the slick folds of the blonde's sex, finally dipping inside. Fleur's body pulsed and squirmed at the touches, her neck craning back on it's own accord, her eyes shut vice-like, and she bit her lower lip. Finding the sight mouth-watering, the brunette smiled, and cooed softly into Fleur's ears. "You have to stop wriggling so much baby…it's hard to focus on the task at hand." A second finger entered Fleur, causing the French woman's breath to catch in her throat.

Moments earlier, after their talk in the bedroom, Fleur and Hermione had returned to the living room, Hermione lending Kara her knowledge of curative spells. Telekinetically she would work upon healing Bill's various scars, while her hands were free to work within more muggle means of medicine; disinfecting of cuts with a bottle of grain alcohol Fleur had and dressing wounds with various strips of cotton the other women had gathered. When they had finished Kara thanked the two lovers up and down, swearing she would never forget the kindness they had shown and side-apparated away with Bill; but not before promising to fill them in on his condition. Utterly exhausted, Fleur collapsed into Hermione's open arms and the younger witch deftly lifted the blonde off the ground. Fleur's limbs instantly went limp, and Hermione pressed her lips to Fleur's cheek. "A hot shower will do you some good darling. You have had quite the evening."

Fleur gave a sleepy yawn while her arms wrapped around Hermione's neck and the Gryffindor carried her toward the bathroom. "Oui…a shower would be nice…'zough I'd love 'eet 'eef you joined me mon ange…I am feeling a bit sore and may need some assistance wiz 'zose 'ard to reach places…" Once they entered the small bathroom, Hermione blushed and obliged, placing her lover back upon her feet and reaching over to turn on the taps.

And here they were, the weight of the day rinsing off the brunette's shoulders with the fall of the shower stream. Dirt and grime sluiced from Fleur's sheet of hair, it's golden luster returning as Hermione's hands now lathered shampoo into Fleur's scalp. They switched positions for Fleur to return the favor.

"Will you be staying 'ere tonight wiz me?" Asked the blonde, slight pleading in her tone; the very sound tugged at the brunette's heartstrings. She wanted very much to be with the French witch that night. Not one ounce of desire for returning to Hogwarts could be found within Hermione. Groaning, she shook her head slowly. Fleur's disappointment was at once painted on her pretty features.

"I…I can't. I have one more place I need to go to tonight."

"'Ermione!" Fleur was suddenly stern. "Do not tell me you wish to return to Malfoy Manor!"

"No. I have no desire to go back to that dreadful place… I'm sorry baby…believe me, there's nothing I'd want more right now…I am going to make a quick stop in London to see the…Oh…" Hermione shuddered as Fleur's sudsy hands raked over a particularly sensitive spot of skin. "Merlin Fleur…your hands." Her eyes rolled back as a finger unexpectedly dipped inside of Hermione's core, and an eager fingernail drug across the sensitive walls inside. Another digit followed and Fleur began to thrust with a gentle rhythm, each push triggering another melodic moan from the brunette. Fleur's thumb began to swirl around Hermione's now swollen clitoris and the French witch captured her lover's lips in a blazing kiss; breaking apart only to catch her breath before diving into the waiting mouth of her lover once more. The young witch's arms sprung forward to brace her nearly convulsing body on the slick tile walls of the shower. A quick orgasm caused her knees to buck and she cried out in pleasure, Fleur's name dripping from her slacken tongue like honey. Her lover's lips once again claimed her own and they kissed deeply. They had been through so much, been so starved of happiness, they seemed to nourish the other through the utter depth of this passionate kiss they now shared. Hermione pulled the slick blonde against her own body once more, the tender softness of Fleur's skin sending shivers up her spine. A heavenly haze of ecstasy enveloped them both and soon after they were both blissfully satiated, contented and ready to face what was to come.

"_Je t'aime...'Ermione…_"

* * *

Brambles twitched and swayed like a swarm of jagged arms as Hermione jogged the short distance down the street toward the front door of 12 Grimmauld Place. The windows of the old brownstone row home were dimly lit, and figures could be seen flitting about on the inside. She strode to the door and reached a trembling hand for its knocker, but the door whipped open before she could even make contact. A wild head of fluorescent pink hair greeted her.

"HERMIONE!" Nymphadora Tonks shrieked, her spiked hair now a bright shade of red. Turning her head over her shoulder she called back. "Everyone! She's OK!" Hermione flinched at the sound. "Wotcher Hermione, we thought you were dead!"

Footsteps thundered across the old tiled floor as Harry and Remus Lupin closed in on the young witch being guided into the hallway. The feeble light from the many gas lamps that lined the narrow foyer flickered as they rushed past. After a crushing hug from Harry and a pat on the back from Remus, she heaved a sigh and feigned a half smile. "Well…as you can see…I'm very much alive."

"We searched for several hours Herm!" Harry said, holding her at arms length and looking over her for any visible injuries. "Just what happened to you anyway? As soon as we had reentered the courtyard, you were gone!"

Hermione shrugged. "I chased one of the Death Eaters down toward the Whomping Willow. Nearly had him cornered until we both incurred the wrath of that dreadful tree. I was thrown clear and landed in the canopy of the forest. I must've had the wind knocked out of me, for I awoke tangled in branches." She completed the lie with another shrug.

Remus scratched his chin thoughtfully with one of his hands. "How odd. You look rather unscathed for having been tossed by a tree." Remus commented, and with a shrug he turned to make his way further into the house, followed closely behind by Tonks. Hermione and Harry were left alone in the foyer.

"Hermione is very skilled with healing spells." Harry said proudly. "Isn't that right?"

Hermione ran a hand through her bushy hair. "Yes, though I'll admit, I'm still a bit sore." On the inside Hermione knew it wasn't the tree that had made her muscles ache, but a certain mischievous blonde, now tucked serenely amongst comforters on a soft bed. A soft bed that Hermione longed to be in at that moment.

Harry's fingers closed around one her wrists and he gently pulled her in the direction of the dining hall. "The rest of the Order will be glad to know you're alright. I've been a wreck since we got back."

"Are they all here?"

"Yes. They've been recuperating from the attack, injuries were few, Ron was banged up a fair bit, but nothing we haven't dealt with before. They are getting ready to select our next course of action." Harry sighed. "These last two raids on Hogwarts have been perplexing."

Hermione arched an eyebrow, knowing this was about to get interesting. "In what way?" She probed as they stopped just outside the door to the dining room. From behind the oak door, a multitude of muffled voices could be heard and Hermione desperately wanted to avoid going inside.

"Well, for one thing Voldemort has only sent his lesser men. None of the inner Death Eaters have made an appearance since Dumbledore's assassination. It's just quite odd he'd assault Hogwarts with simple foot soldiers. He couldn't possibly hope to accomplish much with them."

"Perhaps it was a diversion." The brunette offered. "Draw the primary defenses away and allow the stronger Death Eaters an opportunity to infiltrate the castle."

"That's just it! The Aurors have done a full sweep, there's no sign that _anyone_ entered or left the castle during the attack!"

Hermione oddly felt herself smile on the inside. "A small sacrifice in hopes of killing an Order member?"

"Hermione were you even in the same battle as us! These men the Dark Lord sent could not fight their way out of a paper bag. Shoddy dueling, stray hexes and curses everywhere. Completely sloppy tactics."

"Harry?" Called a baritone voice from the dining room. "Are you coming in here or not!"

"Just a second!" Responded Harry with a shout. "Come on 'Mione. Moody's been in a right foul mood all night. Wanted us all to meet even before we were able to get patched up." He growled. Hermione followed her friend closely as he made his way toward the dining room.

It was all a strange sight to Hermione. The Order sat clustered around a long wooden dining room table, chatting amiably amongst themselves. Hermione stuck close to Harry, making their way toward two free chairs at the far end of the table. Minerva McGonagall rose to her feet at once, rushing toward the young witch, gathering her into her open arms. As the Headmistress was hugging her, Hermione's arms hung limply at her sides.

"Hermione!" McGonagall cried. "We thought we had lost you! Are you alright?"

Before Hermione could speak Harry nodded. "Yep. Survived a row with the Whomping willow, didn't you Herm?"

Hermione desperately wanted to leave, and sweat was starting to drip down her back. Discomfort was all she could feel at that moment, as she felt oddly out of place at this meeting. In the past she had attended several like it, all of which seemed no different to her than the last, but this time, she felt like a stranger. The Headmistress gaped at her waiting for a response, but Hermione could do nothing.

"Miss Granger?" Probed the elder witch once more, holding Hermione at arms length. Nerves stung the young witch with the sound of her former surname rolling off McGonagall's tongue. Helen's face haunted her vision for the briefest of moments and she wanted badly to tell McGonagall to never call her that again, to sod off and leave her alone. Settling upon just weakly nodding her head, Hermione gently pushed past the woman and sat in the empty wooden chair. Harry joined her side. Across the table, the leather-faced Mad-Eye gave Hermione a brusque nod, the simple gesticulation speaking volumes. McGonagall returned to her own seat, though her eyes never once pulled away from their sight on Hermione.

Mad-Eye gave a gruff snort, and instantly he commanded the attention of the room. "Now that everyone is present we can start this rubbish meeting. The sooner we finish, the sooner I can get some ale! Remus?"

Remus Lupin stood and cleared his throat. He spoke hurriedly but not without great gravity. No one understood what provoked the attacks that night and not one person could offer any theories as to what the attacks were supposed to achieve. Hermione's hands nervously tapped on her thighs as she continued to feign interest in what Remus was saying. Like a sheep in a flock, she nodded and voiced her agreement with the others at the appropriate moments, blending in with them with little effort. With a slight gesture, the floor was passed from Remus to Kingsley Shaklebot, who stood from the table and began to pace along the far wall of the dining room.

Kingsley spoke at length about the current status of the ministry; a topic that shook Hermione from her boredom. The muggle Prime Minister, Kingsley relayed, had recently been expressing concerns about the safety of the Crown, as Her Majesty's Diamond Jubilee was scheduled for the spring of the coming year. The muggles, completely unaware of the current conflict affecting the wizarding world, would like to carry out their celebrations in peace. Kingsley dissertated with great apprehension, "The Prime Minister is requesting a greater Auror presence to be at the Jubilee next year, and we are unsure if we can meet that demand without compromising the safety of our own people." Hermione listened with great interest as the veteran Auror continued. "Currently, we are at a loss over what to do. The Prime Minister's actions does nothing to tell me if he expects the Death Eaters to attack, but merely he wishes to take precautions. In the meantime, recruitment efforts will be increased, though training proves to be an entirely different issue all together. One that we shall deal with in due time. That is all I have to say on the subject. I will be sure to relay any new information that comes my way." All around the table heads nodded enthusiastically as Kingsley retook his seat and Remus stood once more.

"While we are on the subject of Aurors, a few that are assigned to the Hogsmeade area reportedly had sightings of Bellatrix Lestrange tonight." Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione watched as Harry tensed instantly at the sound of her Godmother's name. His hands balled into fists, and his jaw twitched.

He snarled through his teeth. "Did no one attack her? Attempt to subdue her? Did she just get away!" Harry's tone was fervid with anger, no doubt over Sirius' death Hermione surmised.

Remus frowned and Moody took it upon himself to silence the frenzied boy-who-lived. "Can it Potter! It would take more than a handful of Aurors to off that crazed _bitch_ of a Death Eater. You know that Harry." Hermione tried desperately not to hex the grizzled man across the table from her. "There is a reason she is so valued by the Dark Lord…you have seen the bitch duel. The woman is like a ruddy dragon, banshee and harpy all molded into one repulsive package!" The knuckles of Hermione's tightly clenched fists cracked as the old man finished. Bellatrix Lestrange had been her Godmother for only a matter of hours, and already Hermione wished to rip the very organ for which Moody earned his nickname right out of his face, simply for calling her a bitch.

"We get the point Alastor. I only bring this to your attention, as You-Know-Who's lieutenants are being so bold as to come near the castle despite the Auror presence. We cannot simply overlook this potential threat. If Bellatrix Lestrange were to breach the castle defenses, well…I wouldn't even want to fathom what could occur." A scoff escaped Hermione's lips at the statement, earning her a few incredulous looks. Quickly she began to cough, desperately hoping to cover up her lack of surprise. _Please let the meeting be over._ Hermione thought over and over.

Her motives for going to Black family home were entirely different than attending a simple meeting of the Order. When Remus finally declared the meeting adjourned, Hermione slid out from the table and began to make her way toward the staircase. Much to her chagrin however, Remus intercepted her during her escape.

"Miss Granger?" Her insides writhed at the sound of her former last name. "A word if I may?" Remus gestured toward the small vacant drawing room to their left. They each took a seat and Remus cleared his throat. "This is the first chance I've had to speak with you in months. I have been meaning to ask, just how was your seaside retreat this summer? I hope that you three at least had one moments peace during your otherwise dangerous school years."

"Umm, it was wonderful yes. The weather was rather agreeable, as was the surf."

Remus smiled. "Ahh yes, Harry has told me of your many excursions out into the bounding main! Sending you all to Shell Cottage was the least we could do, for all that you have done for us…for the people."

"Thank you. It was an enjoyable time being amongst friends." The lies were starting to gag her.

"Friends, yes…that is precisely what I wish to discuss with you Miss Granger."

"Hermione. Just Hermione."

"Indeed. Hermione. I know that I am not alone when I say that something is amiss between you and Harry and Ronald. Am I right?"

Hermione could only shrug, as she had neither the patience nor want to get dragged into this conversation at that moment.

Remus continued. "Harry has informed me of your rather peculiar behavior as of late. Wandering out on the Hogwarts grounds alone, falling behind on your school work, earning detentions…and he also tells me of how you no longer seem to wish to associate with your friends."

"Quite the contrary. They wish not to associate with me." Deadpanned Hermione.

Remus paused a moment, visibly taken aback by her unexpected response. "Is there something going on? We need you three…the _trio,_ if you will, to be a unit once more…you have accomplished what few could even hope to. Merlin, Harry might not be alive to this day if it weren't for you and Ron. If there is an issue perhaps we can help resolve it…"

"There are no _issues_ Remus. We have grown apart and I myself merely have grown weary of this whole war. I want no longer to have a part in it. I just want to finish up my final year of schooling without interruption. My childhood has been robbed from me by this conflict…and I want out. I have told this to Harry. It is he who has neglected to tell you."

The former Professor grabbed at Hermione's shoulders, giving her a slight shaking. "But we are so _close_. The Dark Lord will make a move for Harry, and it is only a matter of time before that occurs. Harry needs you. We need you. You, Hermione, are the brightest witch Hogwarts has seen in decades! You do not understand your power and how valuable you are!" Hermione furrowed her brow ever so briefly, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu.

"I don't see the concern here. Ron and Harry have wasted no time in substituting me. Have you not yet met my replacement? Miss Lavender Brown?"

"Hermione, though I have no ill will against Miss Brown, I would be remiss if I for once believed that she were to be a remotely considerable replacement for you."

"While I appreciate the sentiment Remus, I just can't. Never have I felt so much confusion and anger in my life. I need to deal with my demons on my own for now. I am not fit to join you and the others at this moment. Please Remus…as a compromise, just give me some time, and I promise you, I will be there when I am truly needed." She offered.

He gave her a despondent look followed by a small nod of his head. "I will leave you be. I just hope that you find whatever it is you're looking for...and that you find it fast." He released his grip on her shoulders.

"I hope so too." With that, the young witch exited the drawing room, leaving a very conflicted Remus Lupin behind. His head was held in his hands as he balanced his elbows upon his knees. Gaze trained upon the oriental run on the ground, the former professor was completely unaware of the smirk that curled the right side of Hermione's lips as she retreated into the darkness of the hallway.

At the end of the hallway stood the reason for Hermione's return to 12 Grimmauld Place. On the far wall, adjacent to the narrow stairs hung an enormous portrait frame; upon which had a bed sheet had been draped over it. Hermione slowed her pace as she approached it, and she extended a hand to pull it free. What greeted her was the unsightly face of Walburga Black; the old woman's eyes held impossibly open wide having been hastily awoken. The Black matriarch fluttered her eyes, an attempt to adjust to the light. Her haggard lips curled into a sneer, preparing to scream in anger as she had done so many times in the past, but as her cataract-ridden eyes came to regard Hermione closely, her demeanor quickly changed.

"Helen…dearest me, _Helen Gaunt_ is that you?" Hermione stopped and peered back at the enormous portrait. The woman's thin mouth was curled into a toothy grin, the mangled teeth of her mouth yellowed and crooked.

Hermione spoke in nearly a whisper. "Uh, yes…uh, _Auntie _Walburga. It's me. Helen Gaunt." Somewhere inside her mind she hoped and prayed that her less than stellar impromptu acting would be convincing enough to fool the haughty portrait. "Just here to grab a few things and be on my way!"

"My word, Helen…I thought you had _died_!" Walburga shrieked. "And now you have returned to our home! And _still_ you have retained your youthful beauty!" Hermione held two hands in a gesture to silence the portrait.

"Not so loud! No…I was merely…in a coma?" Hermione offered, with a slight shrug.

Walburga's volume fell to a remorseful murmur. "Oh Helen, can you see what has become of our home! These _brutes_, all friends of Sirius no doubt, have all but commandeered my house! Even my darling Kreacher has fallen under their spell!"

"I am afraid there isn't much I can do Auntie. I am only here to claim a few of my things that I believe I had left in Regulus' room."

Walburga began to weep, or more appropriately wail. Hermione's hands clamped vice-like over her ears to drown out the piercing caterwaul erupting from the portrait. "Oh Regulus! My poor sweet baby Regulus!"

"Dreadfully sorry to dredge up old memories but could you remind me which room was his. It has been awhile since I have been here last."

Walburga gasped between sobs. "The fourth floor my dear. Kreacher has told me they have been keeping those filthy blood traitor _children_ in there!"

"Children?"

"Yes!" Hissed the elderly Black matron. "Two have heads full of despicable red hair, and the other is a rather dippy looking girl. Brought them in here all banged up and bruised. Heard them prattling on and on about a battle of some sort." A brief pause passed over them like the passing of the tides. Walburga wore a thoughtful expression upon her face before she spoke once more. "Did you ever have your portrait completed Helen?"

The sudden change of subject caused Hermione to blanch and her heart swelled with excitement. There was a painting of her mother. Somewhere there existed the opportunity to finally meet Helen Gaunt face to face. "N-n-no Walburga. In fact, I can't recall what I've done with it."

"Shame. It was such a nice painting too. Had you become a Black proper, it surely would've been displayed proudly on our walls. Had Regulus not abandoned you like he did….Pity, it was coming along so nicely. Surely it would've been completed." Her tone began to spiral back down into anger.

Hermione, not wishing to hear the rest of the Black Matriarch's diatribe, gave a half curtsy and returned the sheet over the portrait. Walburga protested loudly. "Auntie Walburga, I simply figured you wouldn't wish to see your unwanted guests." The painting grew silent.

"Hmm, I suppose that is true…farewell dear Helen. Promise you'll come visit me again soon. It gets so lonely here…"

"Yes Auntie, I promise." Hermione began to race up the four flights of stairs, taking three steps at a time in large strides. Upon reaching the dimly lit fourth floor she could see two doors, one adorned with the crest of Gryffindor, the other with Slytherin. The latter was slightly ajar with muted voices seeping through it. Hermione crept toward it and pressed herself against the wall and leaned forward to peer through the door into the room. Ginny and Lavender, chatting quietly amongst themselves, were seated at the foot of a bed that Hermione could only surmise held the sleeping form of Ron Weasley, sprawled across it like a forgotten marionette puppet. Pressed even deeper into the shadows Hermione calculated that she had but mere minutes to act. Closing her eyes Hermione concentrated on the three forms in front of her, willing her heart to slow as she had practiced so many times before, she spoke the incantation in her mind, three times over. _Stupefy, stupefy, stupefy!_ Two muffled thuds could be heard the instant she reopened her eyes. Creeping through the shadows, Hermione held her breath as she spied the stunned forms of the Lavender and Ginny upon the floor.

Careful to avoid their eyes, she immediately began to dig through every drawer and box strewn about the room. Nothing of particular interest could be found among Regulus' remaining personal effects. Some old essays, quidditch gear, Slytherin regalia, robes, everything trifling. Finally, buried inside a box in the far closet, she found one thing of interest: a leather bound journal. Flipping through its pages Regulus' messy handwriting dotted several terse entries, all of the dates from the 1970's. Contained within it had to be _something_ about her mother. She felt as though she was grasping for straws, but she was also desperate for any knowledge of her mother. Perhaps, she silently hoped, that the location of her mother's portrait was noted somewhere within Regulus' journal. _Reducio._ The book was reduced to the size of a galleon and she placed it into her back pocket of her jeans.

Looking back toward her former friends, her upper lip curled into a sneer. Once before she had been in a similar situation. Ron upon a hospital cot, herself clinging not only to his limp hand, but also to the hope that he fancied her more than Lavender Brown. Things were so different then than they are now. So much has changed, she thought to herself, and nothing could bring back the past. His fiery red hair was plastered to his dirty face, his skin dotted with bruises and scrapes, and Hermione found herself angry that none of his wounds were life threatening. Smiling, she made a quick exit through the door before muttering, "Finite Incantatem."

* * *

The rain fell in thick sheets all morning, turning the ground into a slick muddy mess. In depths of the forbidden woods Hermione Gaunt ran at a quick clip, the icy bite of the downpour not slowing her for a moment. Her clothes clung to her lean body like a second skin. Three weeks passed since the night at Malfoy Manor and 12 Grimmauld Place, during which her body had undergone some changes, as her daily habits became increasingly bizarre; eating meager meals by herself, meditating at night, disappearing into the woods during the day, and missing many classes. Normalcy only returned to her when she was in the presence of Fleur, who shone like a beacon for wayward ships lost at sea. Hermione felt safe and free from the terrors of the world whenever she brought her lips to meet the soft ones of her lover's. On the few occasions when she wasn't with Fleur, doing schoolwork or training, she had read through the first few pages of Regulus' journal, but so far, it disappointed her; as all of it was entirely too trivial. Most of Regulus' writings were devoted to sibling rivalry, quidditch, and general hatred of all things Gryffindor. No mentioning of her mother just yet. The journal, like the Gaunt family history, was stowed underneath her dorm room bed.

Her classmates, while they still mostly avoided her, couldn't help but notice that she had appeared to drop several pounds, and her eyes grew more sunken. The weeks had bled together, and all throughout Hermione had grown stronger. Telekinetic spells came very naturally to her now, to the point where her wand had begun to collect dust in her room. Her training continued in solitude. The freezing raindrops pelted her body as she started doing a set of pushups. With each hard thrust the icy water flooded her eyelids and ran down the bridge of her nose. As the muscles of her arms began to protest in pain, she cleared her mind and levitated; holding her body spread-eagle, mere inches from the saturated ground. She remained in this position for a few minutes, breathing deep the crisp November air.

She felt good.

_Powerful._

Bounding back through the gates of the courtyard Hermione came to a halt before the great doors, pausing to catch her breath. Resting her hands on her knees, she heaved a sigh of relief realizing that she had just enough time to grab a shower before her first class. Today, she mused, might not be so bad after all.

"Well, well, well…if it isn't Her-My-Oh-Nee…" Came a loud nasal voice in the distance.

Good feelings, gone.

Hermione groaned loudly and stood, turning to face a pack of Slytherins dressed in their robes, hoods up. At the front stood Pansy Parkinson, arms crossed with a smug grin on her round face.

"What's with all of the exercise lately? Not enough of a _man_ for your French mistress? Need to bulk up or something?" Her companions began to laugh like a pack of starving hyenas descending upon a kill. "Merlin knows you're starting to look like a man!"

"Pansy, are you quite finished? I don't have time for this and need to go get ready for class." She started to walk toward the doors only to have Pansy block her path. With a hard shove, Pansy sent Hermione stumbling back and she fell hard onto her hip. The volume of the other Slytherins mirth only grew louder. The commotion began to draw a crowd.

"No, I'm not! You've been acting like a bloody freak…" She paused for a minute. "Well…you've always been a bloody freak, so you must be really outdoing yourself this time." Hermione, ignoring the other girl's jabs, got to her feet and tried to make her way past Pansy once again. "_Impedimenta!"_ The bolt struck the Gryffindor hard in the back and as her body fell forward, her head slammed painfully to the ground. She sat up and cradled her pulsating head in her hands, wincing loudly. A scarlet red scrape now blemished the skin of her forehead.

Pansy feigned a pout at the sight. "Aww does it hurt bad? Wow…" She turned to scan the crowd. "Not even Potty or the Weasel to come to your aid? Poor, poor filthy mudblood _slut_ Hermione Granger…all alone."

"That's not my name." Hermione hissed painfully through her now throbbing jaw as she struggled to stand up. Pansy didn't hear this as she continued to harangue the Gryffindor.

"Oh no! Look at the bruise you've got on your head! Whatever is your little Veela _bitch_ going to do?"

That did it.

With blinding speed Hermione's left fist connected forcefully with Pansy's nose. That was rapidly followed by her other fist colliding with Pansy's rib cage. The other girl's wand flew a short distance out her hands and rattled across the cobblestone floor of the courtyard. Pansy stumbled for a minute before wiping her now bleeding nose and looking up at Hermione with a manic look on her face. "Ahh would you look at that! The mudblood even fights like a muggle too!" She spat, as Hermione put up her fists in a ready stance, brow furrowed. With a yell Pansy broke into a full sprint and charged head-on at the Gryffindor. Hermione reacted with lightning quick reflexes and launched the other girl clear over her body with a well-placed foot to the solar plexus coupled with a backward roll.

From the ever-growing crowd of onlookers, Trevor, the young first year from Ravenclaw cupped his hands to his mouth. _"FIIIIGHT!"_

The crowd formed a crude ring as Pansy crumpled to the ground and Hermione lunged at her, pinning the writhing Slytherin down with her legs. "Don't." _Punch_ "Call." _Punch_ "Fleur." _Punch_ "A." _Punch_ "Bitch!" Punch after punch Hermione unloaded her rage on Pansy's face, each strike drawing more and more blood. It even splattered across her own face. Hermione wanted to smash in the girl's skull in for every derogatory comment made about her and Fleur. For every cold shoulder given to her since she arrived at Hogwarts. For every lie and broken promise told to her by the Grangers. The two women thrashed about on the ground, trading kicks, slaps and punches. It spiraled into a dirty fight as they tore at each other's hair and at one point Hermione even bit down hard on Pansy's forearm with her teeth.

In the meantime a larger crowd of students had now encircled them, wands drawn, shouting any incantation they could think of to try and break up the fight. On the outside Hermione was beating Pansy into a nearly cataleptic state and adroitly blocking any flailing attempts made by the downed Slytherin to fight back; however on the inside a chorus of voices was screaming _Protego _rapid-fire over and over in her head, repelling each and every jinx or hex thrown her way. The force of the hexes being reflected back knocked over several onlookers. Pansy's blood now ran down Hermione's forearms as she fended against Pansy's fists flying into her chest. A communal gasp erupted from the crowd as Hermione quite audibly tore open the skin of her own knuckle by knocking out one of Pansy's front canine teeth with a exceptionally vicious blow.

"HERMIONE!" Some one had shouted. "HERMIONE! STOP! GET OFF OF HER!" Harry's voice was now distinct over the roar of shouting students. He pushed his way through the crowd and lunged toward Hermione in an attempt to pull her off of the virtually unconscious Pansy Parkinson. Hermione turned and looked up at him with pure loathing. Training his wand at her head, he trembled clearly unsure of what to do. Pansy reached for a clump of Hermione's hair and the brunette swatted the arm away, and at the same time knocking Harry's wand from his hand without batting an eye. His hand whipped back in revulsion as if lightning had just shocked it. Scrambling toward his downed wand, he grabbed it and aimed it at his friend once more. "I'm serious Hermione. Stop it! Let her go!" A deafening silence fell upon the two Gryffindors as Hermione pinned down a whimpering Pansy with a forearm pressed hard to the neck. He winced at the sight as the color began to drain from Pansy's face. "You're better than this Hermione! Just walk away. She isn't worth all of this anger!"

"You have a real knack for inspiring confidence Harry." Hermione groaned as Pansy struggled against the rigid hold.

"Just let her go!"

"Why should I?" Hermione spat. "She and her entire house go above and beyond the call of duty to make my life hell for the past SEVEN years. _Mudblood _this, _mudblood _that! She deserves this, and you know it! Fowl, loathsome, _disgusting_ roach that she is! How _dare_ you come to _her_ defense!" Pansy squirmed under the brunette's arm and an infuriated Hermione wrathfully threw one last punch at Pansy's head, finally knocking the Slytherin girl out cold.

Bruised and bloodied, Hermione stood to full height, looking Harry staunchly in the eyes, chest rising and falling in rapid breaths. With a few ragged coughs she sputtered blood and what appeared to be pieces of a molar from out her mouth at Harry's feet. Adrenaline coursed like a flashflood through her veins as she surveyed the eyes of the crowd that had gathered. She suppressed the urge to knock them all back with a spell. The tank top she had been wearing was torn in several places and she hastily wiped blood from her hands on the fabric. Harry visibly recoiled at the disturbing sight of the young witch, her hair tousled and caked with blood and grime. "You've come to the defense of others this whole time…but who is it who has been standing behind you all throughout? I'm sick of it Harry, you tossing me aside. I can't take it anymore. Not once did you ever try to stop Ron from saying such detestable things about me this summer." _Expelliarmus!_ The wand that aimed at her once again flew a few feet away from Harry's open hand. "I've felt pain, I've been hurt, and I've lived hell just as you have but like a good little _sidekick_ I've kept mine bubbling under. You say you love me, but you have a bloody strange way of showing it Harry!"

"Hermione…I…"

"Save your excuses…" Hermione took in a sharp breath ready to continue her rant until a loud voice from way in the back had shouted: "_Petrificus Totalus!"_

_

* * *

_

**A/N: ONE WEEK TIL RACEDAY! Can't you tell that I'm psyched? It's all come down to this next week, during which I'll probably not get much in the way of writing done. The weather report says it will be a balmy 45 degrees and sunny. BRING IT!**

**A/N 2: The title is one of my fave Pixies songs ever. :D**

_**Hope this chap was meaty enough for you all. Gotta admit, I had fun with this one as I ****LOVE** writing a fight scene, even more so than a sex scene (though, at the risk of giving TMI, I think messing around in the shower is the best). XD_

_**til next time...ttfn. tata for now!**_


	12. Fire Eye'd

Back for more? :D Enjoy!

**A/N: **Quick logistical note. In the AU of this fic, Regulus, Narcissa and Helen are the same age (all born in 1957) sorry about the confusion, but for the sake of continuity, I figured I'd make sure to point this little detail out. And yes as I always say, this fic is strictly **AU**!

* * *

Limbs suddenly rigid as boards, Hermione fell headfirst unceremoniously to the ground as Minerva McGonagall fought her way through the throngs of gawking students. "There is nothing to see here!" She snapped at the crowd, shooing them with a swatting motion of her arms. "I mean it! All of you, back to your houses now!" As the others pushed past him, Harry remained glued to the spot, staring down at the now immobile Hermione, her bloodied face frozen mid-snarl with her red teeth bared. Two healers followed closely behind Madam Pomfrey, newly arrived on the scene, and they immediately fell to Pansy's side and began their mechanical dance of diagnosis. The medical staff uttered gasp upon gasp as they pored over the multitude of injuries inflicted upon the Slytherin girl by Hermione. Pomfrey stood after a few minutes of inspecting the two bodies and glared disbelievingly at McGonagall.

"Minerva. You mean to tell me that Miss Granger…Miss _Hermione_ Granger did _this_ to Miss Parkinson!" Spluttered the nurse, her tone rife with disbelief. McGonagall mutely nodded. "Three broken teeth, fractures in her nose, skull and jaw, possibly a cracked rib or two, and, Merlin's beard, even a bite wound! Minerva…it looks as if she wrestled with a wolf! I may not even have the very resources needed to fully heal her, the injuries are beyond what I can treat!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed with exasperation.

"And what of Miss Granger?"

One of the healers spoke. "Right periorbital hematoma, two fractures middle phalange of the right hand, and a few minor lacerations."

"Put simply…" Madam Pomfrey crudely translated. "The girl has nary a scratch."

Minerva twitched her jaw for a moment, clearly unsure of what to make of the diagnoses. "Well what is your suggestion Poppy?"

Madam Pomfrey heaved a sigh. "St. Mungo's straightaway for Miss Parkinson. Granger can be given a cot in the hospital wing." The healers, levitated Pansy's broken and battered body, and slowly left the courtyard. McGonagall took it upon herself to raise Hermione's form and walk with Madam Pomfrey toward the Hospital Wing.

Sensing Harry's presence the Headmistress turned to face the young man with a stoic face. "Mr. Potter, don't you have classes to attend?" Harry frowned and nodded. "You can visit Miss Granger within a few hours, although I doubt she will be in good spirits." The elder witches made their exit, leaving behind a very conflicted Harry Potter.

* * *

Everything was blackness and muted voices. Senses slowly returning to normal, she fluttered her eyelids open. Wincing at the harsh light pouring in through the windows of the hospital wing, she attempted to sit up; instantly regretting the decision as she inadvertently put too much pressure on the broken fingers of her right hand. The pain shot through her forearm like lightning and she clutched her aching hand with her left, stridently groaning.

"Miss Granger…" It was McGonagall; her shrill accent like a gong to the head. Eyes fully focused, Hermione could make out the form of the older witch, dressed in deep green velvet robes. Upon her chiseled face was a profound scowl. She rose to her feet and closed the distance, hovering over the girl's bed. "You do realize you are in quite a bit of trouble."

Hermione surveyed the Headmistress' gaze with indifference. She gave a mere shrug of her shoulders. "I honestly don't see why." This surprised the elder witch for a moment, who ventured to speak twice over but only silence came to her lips. The dim light of the hospital wing barely illuminated the younger witch's eyes, one of which was sporting an angry bruise. It was a most unsettling sight.

"Your behavior as of late has been nothing less than deplorable. Late to classes, missing assignments, even so far as to blatantly ignore the dress code. You never return with the group on Friday trips to Hogsmeade!" She listed out on her fingers. "I suspect there is something going on Miss Granger. Never would I in my wildest dreams imagine that I would need to stop a _fistfight_ involving you." Hermione regarded the witch's words with a flippant running of her non-injured hand through her curls.

"And how is dear Pansy?" Came Hermione's snide reaction, her face completely insincere. She absently picked at split ends in front of her eyes, the irises crossing in the process. The Headmistress scowled at the dismissive behavior he young Gryffindor was exhibiting.

McGonagall sat in silence for a moment; whatever she wished to say was not pleasant. "She has been admitted to the intensive care unit of St. Mungo's. The healers claim that if you had struck Miss Parkinson any harder, you might have put her into a coma. Had Mr. Potter not intervened, I am afraid you would've done it with no thought."

Hermione shifted her gaze to meet the Headmistress'. "What would ever give you that idea? I was merely defending myself. If I do recall correctly it was she who took the first swing."

The Headmistress was instantly incensed, pointing a finger at the brunette upon the cot she snarled, "Miss Granger, your idea of self defense is _severely_ misguided!"

"As is your pandering to the ministry." Hermione spat, gesturing toward the glimmering phylactery crystal resting on the Headmistress' dress. "Aren't you tired of playing lap-dog to the Minister Professor? Or should I say, lap-cat? I see your _collar_ is on nice and tight."

The elder witch recoiled as if she had just been slapped across the cheek. "Miss Granger!" McGonagall snapped. "Refraining from any further discussion of my legal status with the Ministry, I want to tell you that you must contact your parents. Not only do I wish to notify them of your atrocious manners and conduct, the Parkinsons are furious with what you've done to their daughter, and wish to confront you directly."

"For what purpose? What could possibly come from them yelling at me about their daughter's lack of physical strength and dexterity? It's not my fault she is the byproduct of poor breeding. Honestly Professor, this meeting is worthless as it won't change a thing."

"_**Just contact your parents.**_ I'll have some parchment sent your way. At the present time you are facing at _minimum_ three weeks detention, but for now you are to remain here until Poppy deems you fit to leave. Seeing as though you seem to have nary a scratch, that shouldn't be long." She started to make her way toward the exit doors before speaking over her shoulder, "Tell your parents to be here within two days, we shall provide a portkey for their usage. And now I bid you good night Miss Granger. May the quiet of the night provide you with enough solace to reflect upon your recent behavior." She left with a huff and shut the double doors behind her.

Hermione looked down at her hands; one was wrapped in gauze and mottled with black and blue. Blood and dirt were still under her fingernails. The realization fell heavily onto her shoulders. A wall has been put between herself and Fleur; a wall that she had unwittingly erected by her own actions. Weakness. Chivalry. Thickheadedness. Try as she might to choke down any emotions, a single tear ran down the slope of her cheek. She hastily wiped it away with her bandaged hand, wincing at the pressure of her shattered knuckles pressed against the flesh of her cheek.

She also felt the cold kiss of metal as she was suddenly reminded of the silver ring on one her intact fingers. _Bellatrix. _Grasping the ring tightly in her palm, she conjured the image of the dark witch in her mind. Warmth permeated the soft skin of her palm as the ring began to pulsate and she could begin to hear the ghostly whisper of her godmother's voice pervade her head.

_Yes Hermione my dear…_

Hermione brought her clenched fist to her lips and spoke gently to the ring. "Someone has hurt me Bella…I'm in need of your help…"

_Who would dare!_

"Pansy Parkinson. A rather puggish girl from Slytherin house, and a most repugnant _creature_."

_Ahh the Parkinson family…I know of them. They are a blight upon our pureblood tree…a most dreadful group of people. Tell me where I can find this Pansy; I will run her through!_

"Oh there is no need. She has already answered to my fists, and is now bedridden at St. Mungo's."

_Good girl! Now tell me, my dear, what did she do to you to fight her?_

"Insulted my beloved. I snapped. Beat her senseless. Pansy deserved it. All of it. If Harry hadn't interfered I might've killed her with my own two hands."

_And the world indubitably would've been better off without her I'm sure. But speak quickly, I have much to do, and I am sure you did not contact me for mere idle chitchat._

"The Headmistress requires a parent to accompany me to an undoubtedly fruitless meeting with the Parkinsons…and seeing as you are my closest _relative_…"

_Say no more. Anything for you my dear...anything._

_

* * *

_

Hermione had never cared much for potions as a class, but at the present moment she was eternally grateful for the skill as she walked through the halls of Hogwarts, hands clasped tightly with her Mother. Rounding a corner Hermione made sure to point out several things of interest, and her Mother responded with great intrigue and awe. They stopped to gaze a painting, standing mere feet from two robed Aurors. Her Mother winked and gave a coy wave to one of them, he could only blush and look away. Hermione playfully swatted her Mothers hand and directed the woman's attention to a large watercolor of a pastoral scene.

"Ahh I recognize this piece." Her mother cooed. "Rodolphus and Lucius would engage in rather explosive games of Wizarding Chess right under this painting." Hermione smiled at the thought. "Used to drive the nearby portraits mad whenever they would begin rather annoying fistfights after one would accuse the other of cheating. Always a spectacle. Resorting to a mere board game to assert whos nearly nonexistent masculinity was better…so_ pathetic_."

They continued along, passing by the myriad of enchanted staircases, each changing their positions every few minutes. "Those stairs are quite a nuisance. Sometimes I felt they'd take it upon themselves to intentionally make the first years get lost…though…" Mrs. Granger said with a knowing look. "…they'd make for excellent defensive positions should this place ever be attacked."

Hermione hissed through the teeth of a forced smile, her eyes flitting toward the stoic Aurors standing a few feet away. "You might want to lower the pitch of your voice just a tad Bella…We wouldn't want McGonagall catching on now would we."

"Of course. That would be most unfortunate." A polyjuiced Bellatrix smiled wickedly from beneath her fleshy disguise. "To think it would be this easy to infiltrate this blasted place. Shame that Barty failed so miserably at it."

"_You've_ already broken in here once before. _Clearly_ you know what you're doing." Hermione mused with a smirk.

"Clearly." Bellatrix laughed. "If I weren't here alone I'd snatch _the boy_ up in an instant…but alas I have familial obligations that need tending to."

The brown haired witch grinned. "I was hoping that you'd have some sort of solution to my dilemma. I've got detention for the next three weeks…I'd be damned if I was going to allow Pansy to be an obstacle to Fleur and I."

"How is Fleur doing? I do hope you'll let me meet her soon."

"She is alright…though the burden of the Ministry's restrictions weighs heavily upon her heart. Life could most certainly be better for her." Hermione sighed. "I fear as though things are only going to get worse from here."

"We can only hope the Dark Lord succeeds at what he has set out to do."

The smile disappeared from the young witch's face. "I care nothing of his _grand _plans, Bella. I just want to see my love be free."

They continued along in silence, before Bellatrix mused, "When I was back in Hogwarts I was a terror just like Miss Parkinson, though I was much more adept at avoiding trouble."

"Oh? What's that? Is that _remorse_ I hear?"

Bellatrix brushed the young witch's teasing words aside. "Don't be preposterous, 'twas purely a reflection upon my more…formidable years…I regret nothing that I have done."

They had arrived at the transfiguration classroom and Hermione eyed the oak doors with trepidation. Facing Bellatrix she shrugged her shoulders. "Could get a little bloody in there don't you think?"

"Perhaps. Though the Parkinsons are not known for their skills of argument. Myself, however, have been gifted with a silver tongue and will not relent until you have been given an appropriate sentence for your act of self-defense.."

"And that's what I'm worried about. Promise me you'll stay in character…mother."

"Oh but of course!"

"I mean it! I don't want to see any stray Crucios!"

"Ugh! Must you take the _fun_ out of everything?"

* * *

Bellatrix proved to be a natural at defending family honor though the meeting did not go smoothly. Hermione incited a firestorm of malcontent when she simply suggested to the Parkinsons that they needed to 'put a tighter muzzle on their little bitch'. Bellatrix, ever dedicated to her role as Mrs. Granger, made sure to scold Hermione over her language, but clearly was made giddy by the whole situation. Presiding as a moderator of sorts, Professor McGonagall was not at all pleased with the behavior of either party, but managed to get the Parkinsons to calm down for a moment and accept Hermione's clearly non-heartfelt apology. Bellatrix managed to haggle out a shorter sentence for Hermione, and was about to try and press her luck even further before she began to wince, her mouth twitching every few seconds or so. Her fist clenched and opened rapidly as well. Hermione knew this could only mean one thing: Bella was being summoned.

This did not go unnoticed to Professor McGonagall who spied Bellatrix with a concerned pair of bespectacled eyes. "Mrs. Granger? Is everything alright?"

"Yes, yes I suffer from tics you see. Sometimes I'll even get thrown into a fit…it's quite a nuisance…Are we quite finished? My dearest Hermione _did_ apologize. I fail to see what else you could possibly want from her Mr. Parkinson, as it was _your _daughter you threw the first strike, and my child was merely defending herself."

Mr. Parkinson looked as if he were going to strangle Bellatrix. "Why you!"

Bellatrix was unaffected, and turned toward the young witch and tutted her with a finger to the nose. "Hermione, could you be a dear and see me on my way? Remember to be nice to your classmates and listen to your teachers! Eat your vegetables, wash behind your ears, go to class and do your homework!" The pair exited the room, leaving behind a stunned Headmistress and Mr. and Mrs. Parkinson.

They walked through the halls with a hurried pace and Bella's hand was clasped to her arm. Her head was held low, the brown curls of Mrs. Granger's hair concealing the skin of her face that was starting to ripple like water. "The potion is wearing off!" She hissed. "I have to get out of here. Hermione you need to go, get away from me now! If I am seen I can fend off the Aurors but I can't protect you at the same time!"

Hermione would not release her grip on the Death Eaters arm. "Will you make it out? Is the Dark Lord calling for you?" Her next question seemed to come out on its own accord. "Can I go with you?" Bellatrix could only scoff.

They traversed the vast expanse of the castle quickly, arriving at the great doors within a matter of minutes. Bella, her features nearly her own again, leaned in close to the brunette and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "I am certain I will be well into the Forbidden forest before my disguise is compromised. Far from the prying eyes of those blasted Aurors. For now, you must continue your schooling, finish your sentence and _behave." _Hermione groaned loudly at this. "I mean it! No scampering off to see Fleur until your detention is over. We don't want you to further tarnish your relationship with the Headmistress. The Dark Lord does not wish to see you now, nor does he know that I am here with you. Tonight will probably be just another raid." Bella chuckled to herself. "A worthless one at that since the boy is here at this bloody school no less…" While the dark witch spoke Hermione simply stared off into space and Bella gave Hermione a knowing look before lightly rapping the girl on the head, and Hermione feigned a rather pathetic pout. The older witch was unaffected. "I am deathly _serious_ Hermione! No sneaking out to see Fleur. You may owl her the news, but you must remain here." Another quick kiss and hug and Bella slipped through the great doors, and slowly disappeared across the great lawn.

* * *

The Owlery was a storm of commotion as Hermione crossed the creaking floor, deftly dodging the hailstorm of droppings that would rain down from the ceiling. Clutched tightly in her hand was a letter penned for Fleur describing all that had happened in the recent days. She could only begin to imagine the disdain Fleur would feel when she learned it would be nearly three weeks until Hermione could see her again. Sparing no details in the letter, Hermione described the brutal fistfight and Pansy's harsh words. Fleur was her beloved, and Hermione would be damned if anyone dared to bring harm to her, or even speak ill of her. Admittedly her behavior was rash, and it was deplorable, but she clung to the hope that perhaps Fleur would see the melee as an act of chivalry and forgive her.

After choosing a rather large tawny owl, she set the creature out to flight after feeding it extra treats; encouragement and a tip for ensuring speedy delivery. The animal happily ate it from her open palm, took the letter into one of its enormous claws and took flight into the cold bite of December air.

Walking back toward the dormitories, the many throngs of students she passed would part like the seas. She whistled a jolly tune to herself while strolling the halls. No longer was she regarded with ridicule and laughter, but now with abject fear. Not even the Slytherins would dare to cross her, or even speak to her. She relished the feeling.

News of Pansy's beating had spread like a wildfire throughout the school, earning Hermione a superfluity of interesting and absurd new rumors. Some said Pansy was dead; others claimed the beating was so savage that she had no recollection of who she was. The rumors were infectious, spreading like a festering disease from an open wound. Shattered like a forgotten relic was the bookworm image that Hermione had once worn so proudly; in its place was something entirely different, as she felt she had been born anew. Hermione grew to like the fear, for it afforded the peace and quiet she so desperately wanted in order to continue her training. Her suitemates would leave the instant she'd arrived in the dormitory for her nightly meditation; gathering their schoolbooks as soon as the brunette would assume a lotus position upon her bed. She was unsure about what in particular disturbed them so with her tranquil meditations, but she didn't really care either. By the time she had settled under her quilts for bed, Fleur would invade her dreams throughout the night, ravishing her and she would worship the Veela's body in kind. She would cry out in ecstasy and awaken dampened with sweat, and her roommates would still be sleeping soundly as they had taken to casting silencing charms each evening after a few rude awakenings in the weeks prior.

Ever the dedicated student, she heeded Bellatrix' words diligently, careful to keep in the Professor's good graces. As much as it tore at her, she scaled back her training regimen, only venturing out to her secluded thicket once all of her work had been adequately completed. Her yen to train was so strong; she found herself skipping meals in order to complete her work, to free up precious time to venture outside on the grounds. She would ignore her body's innate cries for food until her muscles would begin to fail from utter fatigue; her leg's trembling from hypoglycemia and malnourishment. Begrudgingly she'd force the food down her throat just to quell the pains of hunger and to fuel the protesting organs before going back to train some more. She began to resemble her namesake; she was gaunt, the veins of her arms and legs growing more pronounced, her ribs practically a xylophone concealed by the fabric of her clothes.

One afternoon while tucked away in her favorite secluded haven in the library, an interesting discovery buried deep within one the tomes she was currently studying piqued her curiosity, and she found that she wished to _experiment_.

_**Spells manifest as a physical beam of energy, passing from the tip of a wand toward its target. Such bursts of energy however are traceable, as Ministry Aurors easily hunted down many casters of dark magic. The opposite holds true as well, for dark witches and wizards could trace the magical energies of their foes and subdue them. Telekinetic spellcraft yields no such perceptible element, as the energy is manipulated in such a way that the spell itself is rendered invincible to the naked eye, and leaves no indication to others who the caster was. This was particularly vexing whenever one of the Unforgivable Curses was performed; the three of which lend themselves nicely to Telekinetic skill. Area-of-effect spells can prove to be particularly lethal as the caster need only to sequester themselves amongst a crowd to strike, and disappear as quickly as they had arrived. For a great many years Ministry Aurors were trained on how to ascertain if a telekinetic wizard was present, but such practices have since been abandoned, as the prevalence of this skill is now so rare.**_

Looking up from the pages, Hermione spied a gaggle of first years, clutching their books and parchment tightly to their chests. With a wicked smile she held the book aloft if to obscure her face from the group. …_expelliarmus…_

As if the students had inadvertently wandered into a windstorm, all of their carefully carried school supplies and wands erupted into a shower of paper as they all fell to the ground. One by one the young students looked to one another, completely bewildered to what had just happened. Hermione slammed the book down and frantically raced toward the group. Helping a few of them to their feet she said, "What happened? Is everyone all right? Anyone hurt?"

"No, I think we're all OK. Someone must've planted a joke bomb or something…must be those lousy Slytherins always trying to mess with us!"

Hermione held onto her improvisations of concern all while smiling broadly on the inside.

They had no idea.

Returning to her desk, completely pleased with her results, she reached into her school bag and retrieved Regulus' tattered journal. She had nearly forgotten the book in the days past, as her initial readings proved completely fruitless. Flipping to the page where she last left off, she spied the date written in the top left corner. 1974. Skimming through two of his terse entries she finally found what she was looking for: the first mention of Helen Gaunt.

_5 October 1974_

_Quidditch match against Hufflepuff today, should be an easy win as everyone knows their seeker couldn't catch a snitch if it were the size of an elephant. _

_Cousin Cissy told me that Helen Gaunt, the girl that Uncle Cygnus has decided to take in, has been allowed to start Hogwarts as a 6__th__ year, even though she has never been to school yet in __**her life**__! I only met her once this summer, seemed a nice enough sort, a little bookish despite not having gone to school. Apparently taught herself everything essential through sneaking out of the house to the library Cissy says her father abused her and he forbade Helen from attending Hogwarts. Dunno how Cygnus ended up with her, he's already got three girls of his own. Not looking forward to Christmas at their house this year. _

"Helen lived with the Black family?" Hermione muttered aloud to herself. "Bellatrix never mentioned this at all." The rest of the entry was more anger toward the other houses and general teenage complaints about school. Hermione flipped through more pages until she spied Helen's name upon a page once more.

_17 January 1975_

_Our Quidditch record could not get any worse! Another loss to Hufflepuff and those damn Gryffindors will laugh their way to the cup!_

_Helen has asked me to accompany her to one of Slughorn's gatherings this weekend. Would rather mouth kiss a basilisk than dine with that blowhard codger of a Professor (nearly failed me last term!) but I owe one to Helen for taking the fall at Auntie Druella's birthday party when I accidentally set fire to her favorite tapestry…_

_10 August 1976_

_Cousin Bellatrix' wedding was today. Uncle Cygnus and Aunt Druella had her married off to that wealthy git Rodolphus Lestrange. Completely insane the lot of them, the Lestranges. Rabastan is a wanker just like his brother. Them and Uncle Cygnus talk about Bellatrix as if she were a prize to be won. Sounded strangely like a business transaction as I overheard Uncle Cygnus ask for membership to a country club in Surrey that the Lestrange's hold influence over._

_Bellatrix is being married into money too. Uncle Cygnus is a sucker for high society types like the Lestranges. This marriage is certainly an opportunity for the family, keeping the blood pure between us all is ideal. Cissy will likely wed that pretty boy Lucius Malfoy. Cissy told me she suspects Andy is dating a halfblood…or worse a mudblood. If any of our family finds out, she'd be cast out like Sirius was for sure._

_Helen cried during the whole thing. Couldn't get the girl to bloody calm down. "Look at her. Bella doesn't love him! This wrong Reg and you know it!" I don't care, better to marry Bella off to a Lestrange than a half-blood…_

_22 April 1977_

_Helen confided in me that she has been offered money, or a grant as she calls it, to conduct research! Research! Bloody hell. Apparently her magic is vastly different from everyone else, she doesn't need to use a wand! Wrote one bloody essay about her own unique skills, handed it to Dumbledore, and is instantly courted by the Ministry's department of Magical Studies! I'm happy for her really, as she is one of my best friends in this world, but I can't deny that I'm jealous! Graduation is fast approaching and I still haven't the slightest what I'd like to do for a career._

_Though my conversation with Rodolphus back at New Years still has me curious. A wizard, a very powerful one, is starting a pureblood movement, a way to purify our kind for good. They are part of a group, the Death Eaters. I don't know if Cousin Bellatrix is part of it, but Cissy's boyfriend Lucius mentioned it once in passing. Perhaps my purpose lies with them…_

_25 December 1978_

_Happy Christmas…though I wish it truly was that way. Been out of school nearly a year and Uncle Cygnus has proposed the crazy idea to my parents that Helen and I should marry! With Sirius gone the old coot believes the fate of our line lies with me! ME! We don't have much of a choice, and they date will likely be set for next year. My mother has already begun to have a portrait done of Helen as a wedding gift! I suppose it could be worse, could be stuck with someone like Alecto Carrow. Helen isn't a bad girl, smart as a whip, very, very beautiful and talented. Relative of Salazar Slytherin himself! Just the bloodline to be joined with the Blacks._

_Though I see the way that Cousin Bella looks at her, and vice versa. I will have to talk to her about this at length. _

_I must speak to Helen. The family only wants an heir. Maybe we could make this work…for both our sakes._

_15 January 1979_

_This is likely to be my last entry, as my fate has been sealed. _

_So much has happened in such a short amount of time I am unsure of what I should do now._

_Helen told me she is pregnant. I am reminded of Sirius' joking words when he said to me so long ago, "It only takes one time." We tried to produce an heir, tried to save the Black family. We failed. She is having a girl. She will likely be cut-off by Uncle Cygnus soon, I can only hope that she has enough in her family's vault in Gringott's. Lord Voldemort will surely hear of this and want my head. I can't stay here; and I can't drag Helen into this mess. Her birthday is tonight, she is heading out to London with my cousins, I will make my leave tonight and hope that I can survive long enough to see the end of the Dark Lord's conquests…_

Slowly, Hermione closed the leather book, her eyes gazing straight ahead at nothing in particular. She still knew so little of the mystery that was Helen Gaunt, though a single thought lingered on her brain. There was a vault. A Gaunt family vault. The family's wealth was squandered but money was not what Hermione hoped to find there. But she was unsure if the vault was even still in existence. Helen was the last of her family, and who knew if even Voldemort had access to it. Hermione felt as though she were walking through a dense fog; no matter which direction she would choose to turn, everything still looked and felt the same. Fleur, despite her work at Gringott's never once mentioned a Gaunt family vault, nor did Hermione believe she ever directly interacted with the vaults themselves. One thing was certain, she needed to get in there, and she wanted to get in there soon.

* * *

Two weeks had trudged by slowly. Agonizingly slowly. Hermione was restless, hardly getting any sleep as she tossed and turned upon her mattress. A stack of letters from Fleur sat on her nightstand, each one read hundreds of times over; the French woman's words of love being Hermione's few remaining comforts. Fleur was not happy about Hermione's scuffle, her words threatened a howler had she done something like that ever again. However, the French witch finally admitted, she was oddly flattered; _Don't think that leaves you in the clear, as they say. I will have to punish you next time I see you._ Hermione smirked as she could practically hear the words aloud in Fleur's melodious accent. Helen and Bellatrix' photograph now beset in a conjured silver frame sat proudly next to Fleur's Yule Ball picture on Hermione's nightstand.

_My family._

It was a December evening when Hermione received a late letter from Fleur, dropped unceremoniously on her dinner plate in the great hall. Fleur's letters always arrived in the morning, and the surprise the delivery garnered the brunette several unwanted stares from her peers. Opening it as she did with all the rest, her stomach plummeted upon reading the simple words written on the parchment.

_**Help me.**_

_**

* * *

**_

**A/N 2: **Still with me? So the race is finally over and done with. Nearly a year of training culminated at Raceway Park in Englishtown NJ this past saturday. First off, thanks to all of you who sent well wishes, I needed them!

As for how I did, I completed the 12-Mile obstacle course in 1 Hour 50 Minutes. The median time predicted by race officials was 2 hours and 30 minutes. Now my time actually qualified me for the World's Toughest Mudder Competition to be held next year. However I was sadly disqualified as I nearly drowned twice in the first water obstacle of the race. The water was 40 degrees and my body (I'm pretty thin) could not withstand the sudden shock of cold. Sank like a rock once I dove in, and I struggled to reach the surface. Once I broke through I could not breathe, and my joints and limbs were nearly stiff. I had to be pulled from this obstacle twice, as I had reattempted it hoping that my body had perhaps acclimated to the cold. I was wrong. Later on in the race I successfully made it through the second water obstacle, despite having severe chest constriction from the icy water. Needless to say, I'm very upset, but at the same time I feel fortunate to be alive and happy to have had the opportunity to compete in such a great event. I am severely sore, taking ice baths and epsom salt baths, but it's a good sore. I certainly feel like I accomplished something great.

I already have plans to sign up for another Toughmudder race in Allentown PA in April 2011, and hopefully I can fully qualify for the 'championship'!


	13. Collapse

Hope everyone had a great holiday! This short chapter technically is the second half of the one before, but I wasn't entirely satisfied. The following could possibly be classified as filler, but it's important nonetheless. Things are about to reach a boiling point for our heroine!

* * *

_**Help me.**_

The two words were like dynamite under Hermione's feet. Adrenaline surged through the young witch's body as she sprinted out of the Great Hall, leaving her books and things behind. She barely registered there was a person in pursuit, chasing her with huge strides.

Harry.

"Hermione! Stop! Where are you going! Just stop!"

"Sod off Harry. Leave me alone!" Hermione shouted over her shoulders, her legs pumping harder as she tried to pick up speed. She managed to cut a sharp turn around a corner, before she was struck in the back by an incarcerous curse, she stumbled forward, falling on to the ground. Her chin slammed painfully on the ground, and one of her canines clipped the end of her tongue. Rivulets of blood began to dribble out of her mouth. Struggling against the ropes, they only grew tighter, the itchy twine cutting into her skin. She cursed herself inwardly for forgetting the counter-spell.

"No." Harry stood over her, arms crossed against his chest. "Not 'til you tell me where it is you're headed."

"Why does it matter?" She grunted against her magical bindings.

"You've been acting so strange lately 'Mione. You look physically ill. And Remus told me what you said at the Order meeting that night, is it true that you're abandoning us? Since when would you consider such a thing?"

She stopped moving. "I don't care."

"What?"

Finding her struggling useless, the brunette stumbled back onto her haunches and eventually stood. "You heard me Harry. I just don't care anymore. War is coming, and the Order doesn't seem to be doing anything. Hasn't it occurred to you that Dark Lord likely knows you're here at school? Why haven't your bodyguards done anything to ensure your safety? Not once have I seen a member of the Order enter this castle! This feels like a losing battle Harry!"

"'Mione…you know Hogwarts is the safest place for me to be right now…"

"Is it? Or have we forgotten that the Death Eaters have already attacked twice. What's to stop them the next time from bursting through those doors? Right now I'd like to burst through them myself. There is somewhere I am needed right now. Every minute I waste upon this floor is another moment of uncertainty slipping by."

Harry frowned. "It's Fleur isn't it? That's where you're rushing off to." With a quick swish of his wand, the ropes disintegrated from Hermione's body. "Ron and the others have a theory…"

Hermione cracked her neck and knuckles, the simple mention of the redheads name burning up her insides. "Theory?"

"That night you disappeared…during the attack…they think you were imperioused. That Voldemort is somehow training you, turning you into some sort of soldier…you're telekinetic, aren't you?"

Hermione blanched, and then sighed. "I am unsure how to prove it to you, but I assure you I am not imperioused. I am in love. And Fleur…she needs me. I was hoping to slip out undetected, as I am still being punished for the fight…"

"A fight during which you not only managed to nearly cripple a girl; you repelled jinxes all throughout without using a wand. You are telekinetic! Remus and Moody are convinced that you're hiding something. They're not sure if they can trust you…though Remus thinks that your _abilities_ will be of great use to the Order in bringing down Voldemort."

His words were like a punch in the gut. "_Great use_? Harry you speak of me as if I were a tool! I am a person! Remus is just as bad as you are! He and the Order don't see me for me…they see me in terms of keeping _you_ alive. It isn't fair Harry, and whether you understand that or not, it's torn me apart. No longer do I want any part of this war. No longer do I want to feel the weight of the world on my shoulders…it isn't fair."

"You think _I_ want this?"

"So just walk away! No one is forcing this upon you either!" She screamed.

"'Mione…we can't hope to succeed without you…"

Hermione shook her head violently. "No. I refuse to listen to this rubbish argument again." Harry began to suck in air for a retort but Hermione silenced him with a raised hand. "You need to…how do the Americans put it? Grow a set Harry." With that she did an about-face.

A rough hand grabbed at her upper arm halting her exit. Try as she might, Harry's grip was showing no sign of relenting. "Why are you acting like this? Why are you so _damn_ angry lately?" The words were spoken through clenched teeth.

"Honestly Harry? How many times are we going to have this conversation? You _still_ have to ask why I'm so angry?" She turned her head with a huff before facing him once more. "Please…just let me go. Fleur needs me…I have to get out of here." She weakly pleaded. After a tense minute, Harry released his grip on Hermione's arm. Shaking his head he slowly turned and trudged back toward the great hall.

Barreling down the hallways she pushed and shoved her way through students making their way to dinner. Slipping through a window in a first floor class room, she ran across the grounds until she made it to the Whomping Willow, and once more, to the shrieking shack. She cared little if the Aurors saw her. Recalling the image of Fleur's living room, she apparated away with a faint _pop_.

* * *

Soft weeping came from Fleur's slightly ajar bedroom door as Hermione bounded across the living room. All around the apartment were boxes stacked one on top of the other, and the sight left Hermione with a terrible feeling inside. With her head cradled in her hands, Fleur sat hunched over on top of her bed, crying softly; several letters and rolls of parchment lay in her lap. Gathering the French woman in her arms, Hermione cradled her close, kissing her flaxen hair over and over.

"What's going on Fleur?" Hermione breathed. "I came as soon as I got your letter. I've never been so worried in my life!"

Fleur's lachrymose eyes gazed deeply into Hermione's. "So many 'orrible 'zings…I do not know where to begin…" She reached over toward the stack of papers and produced the previous day's Daily Prophet. "'Ave you seen 'zee news?" Hermione shook her head as one of Fleur's fingers pointed to an article hidden on the front page.

**THREE DEAD AND FIVE WOUNDED IN VEELA MAULING**

**15 December 1998. Soho, London.**

_**Three muggle men have been found dead this morning after an apparent mauling at a burlesque bar in Soho. Aurors say the main suspect in this crime is 23-year-old Arianna Gambiller, a recent French immigrant who was employed as a dancer at the club where the victims frequented. Five others are in critical condition and are currently undergoing extensive memory modification by Ministry Officials. The scene has been described as an "utter bloodbath" as the attack occurred in a very confined space. **_

_**Miss Gambiller, a known Veela, is currently enrolled in the Ministry's Partial-Human Security Program. The assault had occurred late in the evening, as Miss Gambiller was getting ready to leave for the night. Witnesses describe that the victims had approached Miss Gambiller near the door of her dressing room, and shortly after there was a scuffle. No sooner had the young dancer attempted to leave, an entirely new being stood in her place. One eyewitness described 'a rather large winged creature, with a mutated feline-like face complete with bright red eyes, a set of pointed teeth and razor sharp claws. It was clearly out for blood.' A melee ensued, the frightened muggles completely dumbstruck at the sight of a fully transformed Veela. Two of the three casualties were described as being mauled beyond recognition, while the third had been 'filleted'. **_

_** Ministry Law Enforcement Agents arrived on the scene shortly after and located the suspect, who had transformed back to a human, standing over the dead. They have found no clear motive in the killings so far. Officers encountered a frantic Gambiller, screaming that the men had tried to sexually assault her and she was only trying to defend herself. No evidence has been found to prove her claim just yet. During this investigation, Azkaban Aurors are holding Miss Gambiller as a person of interest in the war, believing that she is a sleeper agent of You-Know-Who. She faces multiple charges for murder, and assault against muggles, each of which carries a life sentence in Azkaban Prison. **_

_** Ministry Officials encourage citizens to recognize when they are in the presence of Veela, and how not to provoke them. They are volatile creatures known to entice men via the use of their 'thrall'; likened to the physical manifestation of human pheromones. Victims are then seduced and killed shortly thereafter. Please turn to Page 10 for a full report about the Veela and how to properly deal with one.**_

The paper burned to a crisp in Hermione's pulsating fists.

Fleur despairingly ran a hand through her hair. "Arianna, I knew 'er well…she attended Beauxbatons wiz moi. 'Zis 'eez very bad. Veela do not attack unless 'zey are provoked! Arianna 'eez even less Veela 'zan moi! 'Zee danger she was 'een must 'ave been so great…my 'eart, 'eet aches for 'er! 'Eef she 'eez sent to Azkaban…mon dieu, she will die 'zere! 'Er 'eart cannot 'andle 'eet!"

"This is atrocious! The Ministry has completely dismissed her! There already seems to be great bias against her. She'd be lucky to be given an even remotely fair trial!"

"Never would someone as loving as Arianna kill muggles wizout conscious! She even 'ad a muggle boyfriend! I would not be surprised 'eef she 'eez still wiz 'im to 'zis day!"

The brunette stroked the top of Fleur's head, placing a kiss on her scalp. "Is this what has you so distressed love? Is this why you sent that letter?"

"Well yes in part but…'zanks to 'zee furor 'zis 'as all caused…I…'ave lost my job at Gringott's." Fleur's head hung low, her golden hair veiling her tear stained face. Hermione was taken aback.

"Why! All because of an article?"

Fleur nodded weakly. "I showed up 'zis morning only to find 'zat my desk 'ad been cleared out for me. 'Zee manager said 'zat my clients called in droves demanding to know 'eef 'zey 'ad been duped by my 'zrall. I 'ad no way to defend myself, and 'zee management agreed 'zat terminating my contract was 'zee best way to 'old on to 'zee clients." Fleur choked on a sob, her lips quivering. "'Eetz incredible. More people are killed by Werewolves every year…but Bill still 'as 'is job. One attack by a Veela sensationalized by 'zee media? Suddenly I am, how you say, sacked!"

Blood boiled like lava in Hermione's veins as the French woman continued.

"And 'zat 'eez only a part of what 'as 'appened to me today. 'Eet gets even better. I return 'ome only to find an eviction notice taped to my door. 'Zee landlord does not wish to risk an incident by allowing a Veela to live 'ere. I 'ave to be out 'een two days." Fleur's body convulsed with sobs. "I 'ave nowhere to go 'Ermione. Nowhere!" Fleur wailed, the sound slicing through Hermione's chest.

Hermione's heart thrummed painfully against her ribs, it's heaving beating echoing loudly in her ears. All she could think to do is hold the crying woman close, stroking her back every so often, as if holding the French witch could quell the tornado of emotion contained inside her. "C-c-could you go back to France?" The question was vomited from her mouth, the thought of Fleur leaving sickened her.

"'Zee Ministry no longer permits international travel while we are at war, nor do I believe I would be welcome back wiz my family in France. 'Zanks to my phylactery 'zey can track me 'eef I try to use muggle transportation out of 'zee country too! I 'zought to try and go back to Shell Cottage wiz Bill but 'e 'as told me Molly 'as intervened. She 'as literally jinxed 'zee house so I cannot even enter 'zee front door. 'E 'as tried to reason wiz 'er…but she does not believe a word 'e says."

"That bitch!"

"You cannot blame 'er. She 'eez acting in 'zee best interests of 'er married son 'Ermy. Molly does not understand our unique situation and you know 'zat she 'eez quick to anger. I cannot argue wiz 'er."

Hermione became frustrated, every option shot down mid-flight. "Do you at least have enough to sustain yourself until you can find another job?"

Fleur nodded her head weakly. "I must admit I do not 'ave much. I was only part-time and could barely pay 'zee rent on 'zis apartment. 'Eef I could locate an Inn 'zat will allow me to stay, I might 'ave enough to live on for a month or so. 'Zough I 'ave a foreboding feeling 'zat I will not 'ave an easy time finding work. 'Zee article about Veela in 'zee Prophet 'eez pretty scazing. People will believe anyzing 'zey read."

"OK let's not panic…we can figure something out. Perhaps you can come to Hogwarts with me! You can live in the dorms while I go to class!"

"Appreciative 'zough I am of your gesture mon ange…'zee 'eadmistress would never agree to allow a Veela on 'zee campus. 'Zee parents would be outraged!"

"Have you talked to Bill? Or Kara?"

Fleur heaved a sigh. "And 'zat 'eez anuzzer 'zing I wished to tell you…" Hermione's eyes went wide, and she mouthed the words: _Are you kidding me? "…_during 'zose two weeks 'zat you were serving detention…Bill 'as asked to divorce me. 'E wishes to propose to Kara. And to a lesser extent, Molly will not leave 'im alone about us...she 'ees pressuring 'im to leave me. 'E apologized to moi left and right, but I told 'im 'zat I knew 'zis day was coming. Kara 'eez wonderful for 'im. 'Zey will be very 'appy."

"This is…too much. So, so much. _I_ am overwhelmed just hearing you talk about it all! Baby…I won't allow you to be homeless! I won't!"

"What can I do? You won't leave me will you!"

A searing kiss was Fleur's response. Hermione clung tightly to the blonde witch, emotions coursing like electricity across her lips. "Never. Never for once think that I would ever dream of abandoning you in your time of need. We will get through this. I promise." Hermione paused for a moment and swallowed hard before beginning once more. "I…I have an idea…but I don't think that you will be very fond of it."

"At 'zis point I am desperate for anyzing."

Fleur watched with perplexity as Hermione slid the silver band from her ring finger and clenched it tightly in her hands. The eerie voice of Bellatrix invaded the brunette's mind.

_You rang?_

"I need your help once more…well that is to say…_Fleur and I_ need your help…"

* * *

**A/N: **If you click on the homepage link on my profile, you can see some of the official photos they took of me at the race! I'm a muddy mess! (And for some reason they included a picture of some random guy too) Sorry for such a short chapter but I promise you...the next one is GOOD. XD


	14. Paranoid

**A/N: ** Monster officially broke 20K views. You guys rock!

* * *

_When I am king, you will be fast against the wall._

_With your opinion which is of no consequence at all..._

* * *

The wind violently whipped through the manicured hedges and trees as Fleur and Hermione arrived on the great lawn of the Malfoy Manor. The storm was oddly appropriate for the ominous aura exuded by the sumptuous mansion. Fleur clung tightly to a backpack as she stayed very close to Hermione, the latter holding aloft an arm in an attempt to keep the pelting rain out of their eyes. At the far end of the walkway stood two cloaked figures; the fabric of their robes billowing uncontrollably in the wind. As the two lovers drew closer, one figure began running toward them; the icy fingers of the soaking rain ripped the hood back.

Bellatrix.

She grabbed Fleur's bag and gathered the shivering blonde under the woolen barrier of her robe. Approaching the door, Narcissa Malfoy drew back her own hood; the pristine features of her noble face a fusion of a sneer and grimace; she looked as though she smelled something rather acrid but wasn't quite sure where the source of the smell was. Easing open the great doors, she welcomed the two witches into her home.

Comforting warmth enveloped them both like the arms of a lover, and Fleur released a loud sigh of relief. Two house elves appeared before them each holding a towel; both women graciously accepted them. Using the fluffy towel, Hermione smoothly wiped the moisture from Fleur's face, and wrapped the blonde into it's warmth. She pressed her lips to Fleur's forehead and leant to whisper in her ear, "I love you." Shivers, which Hermione could only surmise was from the cold, traveled down the French woman's spine. Narcissa cleared her throat audibly, grabbing the attention of the brown haired witch.

Hermione began, her voice awash with gratitude. "Narcissa thank you—"

The Malfoy matriarch had her arms crossed firmly across her chest. "Hush. Do not think this charity. It is only what the Dark Lord would've wanted." The words sounded forced, and tinged with melancholy. She hung her sodden cloak on a coat hanger by the doors. "I shall join you both in a half hour by the fireplace for tea. Do not be late. For now, the elves will show you to your room Miss Delacour."

One of the miniscule minions grabbed Fleur by the hand. "Beautiful miss must follow! Come now please. Mustn't keep the Mistress Malfoy waiting!" The elves lead the two women through a labyrinth of hallways and corridors, the sheer number of rooms in the manor nothing short of overwhelming. Eventually they arrived at a room in the manor's east wing. It was considerably larger than Fleur's room back in Hogsmeade.

"'Zis 'eez enormous!" Fleur stood flabbergasted in the doorframe, staring blankly at the equally enormous four-post bed. The elegant piece of furniture was adorned with fine silk sheets. Heavy curtains, black as the tempest roaring outside that contained them, shielded huge windows. Lightning cracked the sky as fat raindrops pelted and slid down the crystalline glass of the windows. Fleur turned toward the house elves and mustered a warm smile. "'Zank you both, I promise 'zat we will join Mademoiselle Malfoy 'een 'zee parlor shortly. I only wish for a few moments alone wiz my love."

The elves nodded and quickly scampered away into the abyss of the hallway.

"God I missed you." Hermione gave Fleur the kiss she'd long to give the other woman during her absence. Fleur kissed back with equal pressure, as if to convey everything she wished she could without words. "Two weeks without you is entirely too long."

"Oh mon ange!" Hermione was suddenly encased in a bone-crushing hug as the French witch threw herself at the brunette in exasperation. "I…I…" She sputtered.

Hermione rubbed Fleur's back in broad circles. "Shh…we're not in the clear just yet…who knows what Narcissa has planned for you."

"A warm bed. A roof over my head. 'Ermione…I know not what 'eez to come, but at least I can rest easy knowing we are still togezzer…and I am not on 'zee streets. Or 'een some brothel."

"The streets are entirely too dirty for a dainty Delacour…" Hermione craved levity, humor, Fleur's laughter, anything to lift the heavy sadness that permeated nearly everything that surrounded them. Both women knew they weren't nearly out yet, but anything was a welcome distraction.

Fleur's supple hand cupped Hermione's cheek, her thumb absently stroking the soft skin. "Oui…much too dirty." She smiled and gently took one of Hermione's hands in her own, and guided the young woman to the bed. Pulling Hermione's lithe frame on top of her own, she began to kiss her lover deeply, her candy tongue plunging into the depths of Hermione's mouth. The brunette kissed with equal hunger, and moans escaping from her throat as one of Fleur's wanton hands crept slowly up the smooth skin of Hermione's taut abdomen.

"Mmm…" Hermione groaned into Fleur's mouth. "Are you sure? Once you start me…there will be no turning back my love…" Fleur pulled away and nipped playfully at the brunette's lower lip.

"I 'avent tasted you 'een two weeks…" The blonde blushed. "I am merely reclaiming what 'eez mine."

Hermione's hips bucked at the words. "Mmm, I love it when you're possessive…drives me wild." Her own hands acted as if they had minds of their own as her fingertips dipped under the liner of Fleur's pants. Another pair of hands halted their journey.

"Not now 'Ermy…'zough I want desperately to feel you…we cannot keep Narcissa waiting…she 'as been kind enough to offer me shelter…"

"Though I'm sure it doesn't come without conditions." Hermione growled.

"Even 'eef 'eet does, I must honor 'zem. Behave ma belle. Please, for me." The pleading in Fleur's blue eyes was enough to quell the beast inside the Gryffindor, and she nodded softly.

"I promise."

* * *

They entered the drawing room with hands held tight, fingers threaded together. A dying fire crackled in an ornate Victorian fireplace, it's orange glow eerily illuminating the faces of the marble gargoyles and cherubs that adorned the mantle-piece. The warmth from the fire could scarcely be felt in the cavernous room. Narcissa Malfoy lay across a luxurious day bed, a tiny china teacup and saucer cradled in her slim fingers. Her long blonde hair was tied up in a rather complicated bun, and she wore an Asian silk dressing gown and matching slippers. Her fingers were adorned with several pieces of opulent jewelry, and each digit ended with a perfectly filed blood red fingernail. Even in the late hours of the night, she appeared as though she were royalty. The other Black sister sat across from Narcissa in an elegant leather chair, also silently sipping from a steaming cup of tea. The elder Malfoy made a slight gesture toward a third couch, an invitation for the two witches to take a seat.

Once they had settled Narcissa began to address them with a slow drawl. "Bella has at length explained your predicament to me, Miss Delacour." The words were like silk drawn from between her painted lips.

"Please, Mademoiselle Malfoy, call me Fleur."

"_Fleur._ As disconcerted as I am to welcome yet _another_ person into my home, I must admit that I am somewhat pleased that you do not seem to be a Death Eater by any stretch of the imagination. I have been growing weary of them as of late."

"Non Mademoiselle. I assure you 'zat I am no Death Eater."

Narcissa's ghostly blue eyes flickered in the light from the fireplace. "I welcome you into my home, Fleur, on the condition that you are to be my personal handmaiden. One can only tolerate the pitiable groveling of house elves for so long." She took a long sip from her teacup, the pinky of her hand held outward.

"No!" Hermione stood defiantly, fists clenched tightly at her side. "You will not make my love wait on you hand and foot! Fleur is not some, some…_slave_ for you to push around!"

Narcissa, clearly unaffected by the outburst, nonchalantly returned the delicate cup to its saucer. Her porcelain face furrowed with aggravation. "Miss Gaunt, it would behoove you take a seat if you wish for your _beloved_ to be cared for." The blonde witch took another sip of tea as Hermione returned to the couch with a huff. "As far as slavery, I intend to do nothing of the sort with Fleur. She is to merely be my assistant."

Bellatrix frowned at the brunette, making a swift cutting gesture with her thumbnail across her neck. The adept legilimens' voice invaded Hermione's brain. _**Quell your anger at once foolish child!**_ _**Cissy is not like her wretched husband. Put your worthless chivalry aside for once and refrain from biting at the hand that feeds!**_Bella's words harshly rang in her mind. _**My sister, she is lonely. Though she will never outright admit it, what she longs for…is merely a friend.**_

"I accept." Fleur nodded.

_Crash!_ Steaming tea splattered across the oriental run as Bellatrix unexpectedly dropped her cup. Grabbing at her sleeve, the dark witch yelped in obvious pain. Ripping down the sleeve of her dress the dark mark was actively pulsating upon her arm. "He calls Cissy. He is coming...the others will be arriving too...you should go."

Narcissa nodded, gently placing down her teacup on the coffee table. She stood and absently smoothed the wrinkles in her silk kimono. "Come with me Fleur, you do not wish to be present for what is about to happen here." Extending a hand, Fleur took it with a trembling one of her own, and Narcissa helped the quarter-Veela to her feet.

Fleur shot a worried look toward Hermione, who did not budge from her seat. _Be safe my love._ The French witch mouthed as Narcissa gently pulled her toward the staircase. The two women disappeared upstairs, leaving Hermione alone in the drawing room with her godmother; who was busy stalking back and forth in front of the grand windows. Hermione stood and joined Bella by the glass; both women peered out at the raging storm, wind and rain running riotously through the trees and hedges of the great lawn.

"Did you know the Dark Lord was coming tonight?" Hermione asked, still staring straight ahead. From the corner of her eyes she could see Bellatrix nod. "Was I to be here for his arrival?" Bellatrix nodded once more and Hermione at once thought back to Fleur's despondent face as the resplendent Malfoy matriarch was pulling her up the stairs. "Is it also safe to assume that you saw the recent article on Veelas in the Prophet?"

"As much as I strive to not stain my eyes with that _codswallop_ they try to pass as journalism, I'll admit the headline caught my attention…and the Dark Lord's as well." Bellatrix gave a slight sigh. "Before you had contacted me, He asked me to fetch you from the school. I suppose the dire situation of your lover made my task much easier."

"This must mean that I have reached the _bottom_, for I don't know how else my life could get any worse." Hermione shrugged. "Though I must thank you for convincing Narcissa to share her home. I am uncomfortable with Fleur being her handmaiden, but I suppose I should trust Fleur's judgment."

Bellatrix frowned. "Yes you should." Snapped the older witch thrusting a skeletal finger at the younger witch's chest. "Trust helps to nourish a relationship. Take it from one who has been shackled to a mongrel husband in a loveless marriage for decades. Without trust the bonds forged between two people are weakened and inevitably they will rot away. As such I ask that you trust me when I say Cissy will bring no harm to your beloved."

"Does the Dark Lord have a plan for me?"

"I would not be surprised. He knows that Helen's great gift has been passed on to you. And he knows the extent of the devotion you have for Fleur...and how you would do anything for her. It…" The dark witch seemed to struggle with her words. "…almost makes me jealous. You are both beautiful together. Despite the misery and pain that seems to surround you both…the smiles that you wear for one another…radiant like the sun." Bellatrix looked down at her feet, the sadness in her voice surprising Hermione. "I once knew a happiness like that for a brief time in my life…but it is long gone now."

They stood in stillness watching the grounds for movement. Both women held similar stances, arms crossed, leaning slightly back. Hermione broke the silence first. "You killed my Uncle you know."

"What?"

"Sirius Black. He was my Uncle. Of course…I never knew him as such while he was alive."

Bellatrix said nothing for a minute. "I…"

"He was also Harry's godfather. Not sure if you cared to know that as well. Harry has wanted your head ever since the battle at the ministry."

"I…I am sorry."

Hermione looked over at the older witch with great surprise. "_Sorry?_ You killed him without a thought. You even _laughed _about it."

Bellatrix' lips curled into a snarl. "I was doing what was expected of me. Sirius dared to interfere with the Dark Lord's plan, and as his warrior, I had to cut him down…" The words became weak as she ended her thoughts.

"Sirius was cast out of your…err, _our_ family was he not?"

"Yes…but I had no part in such decisions. He chose his path, and Aunt Walburga had his name stricken from the family tree. Regulus' untimely death, and my…_murdering_ of Sirius…the Black name died with them both." Bellatrix sucked in a deep breath. "And yes, I am sorry. If I could go back…"

"You know, I never imagined for once in my life that I'd be having a civil conversation such as this, with you. Your very laughter used to haunt my dreams Bella. To hear guilt and remorse from your lips I must admit …it's a little disconcerting."

Bellatrix frowned as she spied the first sets of cloaked figures apparating one by one on the great lawn. Her face remained trained on the courtyard as she spoke calmly. "It is only after we've lost everything…that we're free to do anything..." Her last words were but a harsh whisper as her eyes narrowed in disgust at the sight of Wormtail and Fenrir. The two men suddenly ducked off to the right. "Where are they going? Are we not meeting in the manor?" More Death Eaters arrived, and they too went toward the right. "Quickly, take Cissy's cloak. Something is amiss." Hermione did as she was instructed and followed Bella back outside into the thunderstorm. Gravel crackled underneath their shoes as they crossed the expanse of the lawn and stayed near to the other death eaters making their way to what appeared to be a rather dilapidated barn. There was no light to be seen from the barn as the figures vanished into the shadows once they entered the barn's slightly ajar front door. After a tense few minutes, Bellatrix and Hermione ran toward the portico, and the elder witch halted the brunette with a raised arm.

"Know this…" Bellatrix began with a harsh whisper. "Believe me now when I tell you that I am not sure of what the Dark Lord has waiting for you inside. He was quite vague when he requested your presence…"

Hermione silenced her godmother with a nod. "It's alright…I am ready. Trust me." With that the two entered the barn and were instantly submerged in total darkness as the barn door slid shut on it's own accord.

* * *

The barn was deathly silent, the only sounds being Hermione's rapid breaths. Blindly Hermione tried to reach for the dark witch, but found that she could only grasp at nothingness. She could no longer smell Bellatrix' perfume. She was alone.

"Hello? Bella?" Hermione called out in a timid voice. Suddenly she could hear distant shuffling and a frantic sounding muffled sound; a man was calling for help somewhere across the barn. "Who's there? Hello? Bella where are you!"

"Mmmph…Hlmph meph…" Responded the stifled voice. Concealed by something held tight over a mouth. Hermione paled at the sound, her heart hammering in her chest. The room burst with light and she recoiled as her eyes burned from the hasty retreat of the darkness. Once her eyesight finally adjusted a dreadful scene had greeted her. Bound forcefully to a chair was a man with a burlap sack over his head, struggling wildly against his bonds and his chest was heaving up and down rapidly in fear. Like a group of vultures, up above them along the wooden rafters sat all of the elite death eaters. Finally out from the shadows walked the Dark Lord, his deformed face concealed by his drawn hood.

"Miss Gaunt…" Began the Dark Lord with a bow. "How nice it is for you to join us on this stormy night. How are things? I trust that school is going well? Not falling behind on our studies now are we?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow in confusion, her gaze never leaving the tied up victim. "It's…alright I suppose."

As if triggered by the mere sound of her voice the body in the chair writhed uncontrollably and cried out once more. "MMmmph Hermmphione!"

Recognizing her name amongst his screams Hermione began to sweat, "Who is that!"

"Ah, ah, ah! In a moment. I just wanted to first see that you are faring well. Word of your little scuffle in the courtyard has reached my attention. How dare little Parkinson insult your beloved. I thought you would like to know that her parents have already been dealt with. Perhaps now they will know to keep their insolent child on a shorter leash." He began to draw closer. "Now as for who our friend is here…why not go ask him yourself?"

Hermione cautiously approached the bound man, each calculated step making her knees grow weaker. The man continued to thrash about and grate his nails hard against the grain of the chair, hard enough that they began to bleed. Hermione looked up at the rafters to see the numerous pairs of eyes that glittered like the eyes of an approaching wolf pack. She desperately searched among them for Bellatrix, but the dark witch was nowhere to be seen. "Go on Hermione. See the gift I have gotten for you…" Her hand came to rest upon the sack on the man's head and she curled her fingers around it. Whipping it free with a harsh jerk of her arm, she could feel bile rise in her throat at the sight of unruly fire red hair, and a pair of blood shot green eyes staring in pure terror at her.

It was Ron.

"H-h-hermione! What're you doing here! G-g-get me out of here!"

Confusion.

Anger.

Confusion.

Anger.

A battle waged inside the brunette's conscience as she stood paralyzed to the spot, gaping at the struggling Weasley. Knees rusted in place. Aside from being bound, he appeared to be unharmed, if not a bit rattled, his freckled face had gone raw with tears. Her eyes wandered once more toward the rafters, hoping Bellatrix would appear. Still, the dark witch was not there. Voldemort's red orbs were lurking in the far shadows behind Ron, blinking every so often in silence. Ron began to struggle again. "Hermione! Come on, get me out of here! Tell them I'm of no harm! I don't know where Harry is!"

Slowly she began to approach the struggling red head, and circled him predatory-like. "Ron…how did you get here?"

His face was incredulous. "Hermione! Why does it matter how I bloody got here! They're all around me, they're gonna kill me!"

Hermione frowned. "Something isn't right here." She looked toward the Dark Lord, who still was unmoving, not offering words or gestures. Ron continued to struggle. Turning to face the Dark Lord she called out, "What will you do if I let him go? Is he free to leave?"

Emerging once more from the shadows Voldemort simply smiled and bowed his head. "Yes. He is free to go wherever he so desires. I shall still my hands. His fate merely rests in yours."

Ron's eyes bored holes into the brunette. "'Mione! Tell me you're bloody joking! Let me go!"

Hermione bent over to his eye level and snarled at him. "Promise me that you'll drop your stupid vendetta against Fleur and I. PROMISE you'll convince your bloody mother to let her back to live in Shell Cottage with Bill."

"Are you…bargaining! I'm tied to a damn chair! This is a nightmare! Why does any of this matter? And furthermore, why do we have to argue this in front of _them_?" He screamed.

"Give me your word."

He spat angrily. "Great. Just great. My life holds less value than your adulterous relationship. _Phlegm's _thrall must really have you under a spell. You're certain _Phlegm_ doesn't have you and You-Know-Who imperiused?"

Veins and arteries constricted within her the instant the derisive nickname slipped from Ron's lips. Brow knitted furiously she wanted to will herself to awaken from this nightmare. A yen to awake in Fleur's arms nestled in an ocean of blankets on their bed. Her id and superego sat upon her shoulders, screaming at each other back and forth, and the argument was becoming one sided. She felt her rage begin to physically manifest as warmth and sweat. Ron's lips continued to move, his face contorted with anger, but the sounds from his mouth were but a muted reverberation against her eardrums. It hurt. Tears burned her eyelids as she began to focus on Ron…who was rapidly descending from a former friend…into a target.

With a wave of her hand she undid the incarcerous curse that held Ron to the chair and she began to back away. Legs shaking like rubber, Ron stood and began to stumble away from the Dark Lord, who, true to his word, remained still as stone watching the interaction between the two Gryffindors. The red head's jerky gait toward the door of the barn was punctuated by several stumbles. One would've suspected he had gone on a bender. Approaching the young witch, who's back was turned to him, he reached out a hand toward one of her shoulders. "Come on 'Mione, they're letting us go…I don't know bloody why, but I'd rather not take my chances. Gotta get back to Lav, she's probably worried sick."

_Levicorpus!_

Ron's head and neck whipped violently as he was brutally levitated off the ground held up by an invisible force clutching onto his right ankle. His arms flailed and the pure fear returned to his face as his eyes stared back at Hermione.

"HERMIONE! What the-"

The brunette did not move, her gaze was trained upon his rapidly reddening face, blood like rushing into it in torrents. _Crucio!_ As though he was a hooked fish pulled out from the water, his body convulsed and writhed in a sickening pseudo-dance. A scream ruptured forth from his mouth as his body palpitated from side to side, his limbs like branches caught in a hurricane.

_CRUCIO!_

Tears poured from her bloodshot eyes as she willed the curse upon him. "P-p-p-please…m-m-make it stop! Her-her-hermione! PLEASE!" The words poured from his mouth much like the inundation of saliva that literally flowed from it. At the sound she stopped the curses, callously dropping his body like a child's forgotten rag doll on the ground.

"Take that as a warning. You're lucky I don't try to _kill_ you for your words!" She screamed, a finger pointed like a gun at his head.

"H-h-hermione…you're bloody in-insane! Your blind d-d-d-devotion to your Veela is turning you into a lunatic!"

Whipping out her wand from her pocket she aimed it at the red head.

"_CRUCIO!" _She screamed at the top of her lungs, and she watched the bolt audibly exploding from its tip like the bullet from a gun throwing the boy into another fit. His face struck the ground hard and there was a sickening crack as his nose broke on impact. Unexpectedly Ron's body began to contort and change before her very eyes. His fingers shrunk and became swollen, thick tufts of black hair emerging all over his skin. His many freckles became liver spots and moles as his tall frame became significantly more wide and squat. Before long, Hermione was greeted by the sight of Peter Pettigrew, nose bleeding profusely and sniveling at her feet in a fetal position. Hermione turned to face the Dark Lord, her confusion and shock evident on her face. "What…? WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!"

The Dark Lord laughed and began to clap as he walked toward the brunette. "Wormtail is an excellent little actor is he not? Lucky for you he is also quite the masochist. Oh my dear Hermione…I can practically taste your delectable rage on my tongue. Your anger knows no boundaries. Tossing aside many years of friendship in a matter of minutes. Had the polyjuice not been such a weak dosage, you might have killed him am I right?"

Hermione felt vomit rise in her throat and she began to desperately choke it down. "This is disgusting. Horrid! How dare you play with my emotions like this!"

"_How dare I?_ Hermione, this is all your doing. You could have just ignored his ignorant tongue and let him walk out of here. _**You**_decided to torture him. _**You**_ decided he wasn't worth saving. You feel so much anger, and have no means to channel it."

Falling to her knees Hermione began to sob. "What do you want with me…just please…stop playing games with me! Stop with all the smoke and mirrors…I don't know how much more of this I can handle…" Her head instantly was buried in her palms, her sobs coming with violent heaves of her chest. "Please…" She relented.

The Dark Lord had broken her.

Voldemort grew serious. "Hone your skills. It should be evident now, more than ever, what you are capable of. Think of what you can accomplish. Think of the world you can mold for you and your beloved with your very _mind_." He began to pace. "Bellatrix will impart on you her knowledge of legilimency and occlumency. You still have much to learn." He continued to ramble about her telekinetic abilities, but Hermione scarcely paid attention; the words were just muted sounds.

She felt empty. Desiccated. Devoid of emotion. She had finally hit bottom. The world was a cruel place. Her understanding of the machinations of the world, carefully built up over her many years of existence, had been shattered in a matter of minutes. Previously unsure of where she belonged, she knew that her frail hopes for a future lied with the Dark Lord now hovering over her like an obelisk. Her logic also understood that there was great hypocrisy in this decision as the Dark Lord himself was full of hate, but the Ministry, she reasoned, was no different. Society was no better either. She felt exhausted. Tired of being cast aside, and abandoned by all whom she once loved.

As if on cue the Dark Lord spoke to her emotion. "There's a time to discriminate Hermione…hate _**everyone**_ that is in your way."

Getting to her feet, Hermione steeled herself. Her choice was made clear. Bring down the ministry. Make them suffer. Make it burn. She and Fleur deserved better, the rest of the world, could go to hell if it wanted. She turned to face the Dark Lord and gave him a nod.

His skeletal fingers laced together. "Excellent…you are to begin immediately, for time is running out."

Whooping sounds and applause echoed from the rafters. The Death Eaters cheered as the Voldemort held his arms skyward in a broad motion of victory. "My friends, it is done. The trio is _no more_! Hermione Gaunt is _home!_" One by one the Death Eaters landed on the barn floor in plumes of black smoke. Bellatrix appeared to Hermione's far right, and the instant she landed, Hermione rushed toward her, Bellatrix wrapping the younger woman in her arms. Tenderly, Bellatrix began to stroke the top of Hermione's curls as the girl's cries came in waves.

The Dark Lord held his arms wide once more and instantly the group was silenced. "Before we depart tonight, I must impart upon you all the plan we are to follow to once and for all solidify our hold over the Wizarding world as we know it. The Boy is held at Hogwarts, under the watchful eyes of not only the Order, but a veritable army of Aurors. If we try to breach the castles defenses now, it will only mean crushing defeat. Furthermore the Ministry will certainly respond with a surge of recruitment to further press us down. That is why we must stretch them thin…" His eyes scanned the multitude of darkened faces surrounding him and his thin lips curled into a ghostly smile. "But before we strike we must create a little…_entropy._ Hermione my dear…this is where you come in."

The brunette shuddered as her name slipped like ooze from the Dark Lord's mouth, and Bellatrix pressed a cheek to the girl's head, shushing her gently.

"It has been brought to my attention that the muggles are preparing for a rather grand event…one that will have attendance in the _tens of thousands._"

"The Queen's Diamond Jubilee." Deadpanned Hermione. "It will be a national holiday."

"Ahh yes…the Jubilee. Disturb the hive by disturbing its Queen!" He gave a laugh at his impromptu witticism. "The Aurors will be called to this event as many mudbloods and half-bloods will likely attend. It is here where we will make our move. We shall divide our ranks into two groups. The first, to be led by Bellatrix, will be tasked with doing what she does best…creating utter mayhem. The muggles will have delegates from several different nations in attendance, some of which are currently at war with each other. Bella…stir the proverbial pot. Aurors will confiscate all wands and will likely have many jinxes and hexes in place for security measures. Hermione you shall accompany dear Bella and create a little pandemonium with that marvelous talent of yours. The muggles will be thrown into chaos, and the minister and his Aurors will instantly be overwhelmed...as will the entire nation. The muggles fear terror. And it is terror that we shall bring as a gift to their Queen."

Lord Voldemort looked toward the two women and Bellatrix gave a stoic nod; her orders clear and understood.

"A second team, led by myself, will strike at the Ministry that very same day when the time is right. It will fall, and when it does we make our preparations to remove the final obstacle…the boy." Uproarious applause rose in a booming crescendo as the Death Eaters vocalized their approval of the plan. The Dark Lord, not amused by their celebrating silenced them once more with a lightning fast casting of a fire spell, the flames catching on a few robes. "SILENCE! We have but three months to prepare…Hermione you must continue your training. You are the key."

"My friends..." He smiled and brought his hands together palm to palm. "Let us slay." The cheers resumed. And the Dark Lord turned as if ready to leave.

"WAIT!" Hermione shouted; a hand extended and she stumbled free of Bellatrix' hold and onto the ground. "P-please…all I ask is just one promise."

Voldemort's face twisted with confusion as he neared the frantic girl. "Yes?"

"If the ministry is disbanded…destroyed…please…set my Fleur free…destroy the phylacteries…please…let us have that happiness we've been denied…"

Voldemort scanned the many faces of his followers; none had moved a collective breath drawn in deep amongst them. He returned his gaze upon Hermione. "It will be done."

* * *

**A/N 2:** Snuck a Marilyn Manson line in there, and the line quoted at the top is from "Paranoid Android" by Radiohead.

**A/N 3: ** Oh and if you haven't checked out my profile, I created a 'fic-track' (AKA soundtrack-trying to be witty here) for **Monster**. Basically, if you haven't figured it out by now, each chapter title is from a song either that basically inspired the action, I just happened to be listening to it at the time or just seemed oddly appropriate. Think of it as the music that plays in the background of a movie. (If that makes sense) Check it out if you've got the time!


	15. Angry Angel

Enjoy!

* * *

Voldemort left them in a tempest of smoke and a vociferous crack. Hermione flinched at the sound. Bellatrix helped to ease the young woman onto her unsteady feet and quietly asked if she was doing alright. Hermione could only muster a frail nod.

"You make it look so easy…" Came a gruff voice and Hermione's anger ignited like dynamite at the sound. Fenrir Greyback. Instinctively Bellatrix' arms gripped her tighter as she felt Hermione tense and struggle against her hold.

"Let me go Bella!" Hermione snarled. "He's so close. So goddamn close. He's the reason Fleur suffers! I want to _kill_ him!" Her arms flailed, fingers outstretched gripping at the stale air of the barn.

Bellatrix' lips neared the brunette's ears and she whispered harshly. "Stop it foolish child!" Hermione's lithe body writhed against Bellatrix' grip only earning her an even tighter hold from the Death Eater. "He disgusts me too, the vile creature…you'll get your chance for revenge soon enough. I promise. Now is not the time…Fleur needs you and you need her. Come now; let us go back to the Manor...you have endured enough for one night..."

Unfortunately the words fell upon deaf ears. With a sudden surge of adrenaline Hermione fought against Bellatrix' tensed forearms, the veins of her neck pulsating with anger. _Crucio!_

Fenrir's massive frame crumpled to the ground with a guttural shout as the torture curse struck him without warning. Bellatrix' swatted harshly at Hermione's head with her hand but it did nothing to sever the young woman's intense concentration on torturing Greyback. He struggled to stand, wincing and snarling like an enraged animal throughout. His jaundiced eyes focused upon Hermione and saliva dribbled out from between his razor sharp teeth. "You little bitch…" He growled and he stalked near the two women. Hermione continued to hit him with the cruciatus curse, but her attempts were now much weaker than the first. Her joints ached and the muscles of her chest cramped painfully. Rivulets of blood began to trickle out from her nostrils, and the intense pressure in her skull mounted by the second. River deltas of capillaries burst, marring the whites of her eyes.

Once close enough, Fenrir snagged at the collar of Hermione's shirt, wrenching the girl free from the protection of Bellatrix' arms. He grabbed a clump of her hair and forced her neck back so that her face looked directly into his. He licked his lips. "Oh the things I'd like to do to you right now little bitch..."

"Keep away from her you filthy mongrel!" Shrieked Bellatrix, her crooked wand now aimed at his bulbous forehead.

Hermione felt faint, her heart beating weakly in her chest, and her eyelids grew heavy; she was scarcely aware of the monstrosity of a man nearly ripping a chunk of her scalp from out of her head. Hermione went slack in his arms. Fenrir grinned wickedly. "I'm not going to kill her Bellatrix, I'm just gonna teach the little slut a lesson in manners...". His tongue darted out, wetting his teeth.

A bolt from Bellatrix' wand threw the hulking man back onto the ground with a sickening whip of his neck. At once Bellatrix gathered the brunette into her arms, and Bellatrix struggled to keep the girl upright as she slung lifeless like a forgotten marionette puppet.

"Bellatrix…what gives?" Fenrir yelled. "Just a bite." On his feet once more, he stalked nearer to the nearly unconscious girl. Bellatrix struck again only this time she chose to throw a small silver knife, slicing a sizable hole in the shoulder of Greyback's muddy trench coat. Blood began to seep into the moth eaten fabric. The knife's journey ended when it wedged itself firmly in the fibers of the rotten wood in the barn's walls.

"Touch her again Fenrir, and I will flay you alive!" Bellatrix snapped. With a flick of her mangled wand the knife flew back toward her hand, nicking Greyback's ear as it traveled. She deftly caught it by the hilt. "Consider that a warning!" she spat pointing a finger. Hermione broke free and stumbled forth from her grip. She looked through the forest of her bushy curls, directly into the yellow eyes of the werewolf.

"You _bitch!_" Fenrir pawed his at his bleeding ear, before turning to face Hermione, teeth bared like a rabid dog. "Saw your little blonde before. Fancy collar she's got on there. Though I'd like to see her in _only_ that collar…" His eyes trailed up and down Hermione's body before he spoke again. "Maybe throw you in there too for good measure."

"Fuck you." Hermione hissed and quickly snagged the knife from Bellatrix' hands and threw it full force at the man, effectively stabbing him in the lower stomach. It wasn't a kill, but close enough for Hermione's tastes. Fenrir reared back on impact, and blood poured like a faucet from the wound.

Charging full force at the two women, Fenrir held out his massive arms, his clawed hands open wide. Hermione coolly walked in front of Bellatrix, wearing a calm expression on her face. Time slowed to a crawl as Fenrir barreled toward them at full speed, every muscle bulging, each striation a road map of veins. His face was unlike that of a Tiger mid-bite. Hermione merely thought of the word; the sound of it barely a whisper in her mind amid the roar coming from the windpipe of the enormous man.

…_sectumsempra…_

Instantly he dropped like a boulder onto the ground, as wounds of various shapes and sizes suddenly bloomed all over his body. Frantically his hands blindly groped at the myriad of gashes as if he were trying to plug a series of leaks. A sizable puddle of blood formed around his feet. Soon he lay spread eagle on the blood soaked floor, out cold from significant blood loss. All of who remained in the dark barn nary moved an inch. The girl that stood before them did not move, and they would not dare come any closer to her. Bellatrix strode over to Fenrir's body and callously kicked it over onto its back, and pulled out the embedded knife with one strong pull of her arm. Blood flew out from its tip, and she pointed it at each of the hooded figures. "Leave the girl alone." She snarled loudly, her voice echoing. "I mean it!"

Bella returned to Hermione, who still appeared completely winded, and took hold of the girl's arm. With that, they side-apparated back into Bella's own chambers in the manor.

* * *

Upon their abrupt arrival Hermione's stomach twisted painfully into a knot, and her nausea was unrelenting. Bellatrix released her. Clutching her gut, Hermione stumbled across the floor for a few feet before falling to the ground in a fetal position. Bellatrix came to rest on her knees beside the shivering girl; gathering her once more into a hug.

"I feel as though I'm in over my head Bella." Hermione's vocal cords were ragged. "I'm so scared…so confused…" Her trembling only grew worse and Bellatrix struggled to hold the younger witch upright. "I nearly _killed_ a man tonight." She wiped the blood from her nose with her sleeve.

"Hush…Don't worry your pretty head over this now. Christmas is coming."

Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing and looked at Bellatrix with shock. "_Christmas!_ Bella honestly, it would be awfully daft of me to be excited for something as comparatively frivolous as Christmas at a time like this!" Hermione said with a huff. Bellatrix could only smile as the stubborn Hermione had decided to return to the surface with vengeance.

"It will be the first Christmas with your love. Is that not worth something my dear?"

"But the Death Eaters and the raids. No doubt the Dark Lord will have me kill…Harry…the moment I return to Hogwarts." Hermione choked on her words, the very thought of murder still a foreign concept to her.

"No. I find that very doubtful." Said Bellatrix, resting her chin on the top of Hermione's head. "Besides, you cannot kill Harry…at least not by magical means. That is a task left only for Lord Voldemort himself. We have our task set before us. Nor do I, or the Dark Lord for that matter, believe that you are even ready to kill. Because you have so much rage within you, the cruciatus curse has come very naturally. You _want_ to make people hurt. The killing curse is a entirely different matter. Your heart must be completely twisted, and not an ounce of remorse can you feel for your target. You have not fallen that far. Those with a lust for blood and death can cast it with no thought."

"Someone like you?"

The words visibly stung Bellatrix. "Erm…right…someone like me. Both your head and your heart have to want it. Foolish girl, my heart is as black as my namesake. My rage and anger have been brewing for decades. You, my dear, are one of the lucky ones...you are one of few that are precious to me. I have a complete disregard for the sanctity of life. If anyone dares to cross my path, I shall cut them down where they stand. I consider you my own, and anyone that decides to meddle with you, will beg for death when they answer to me."

Bellatrix rested her hands upon Hermione's shoulders holding her at arm's length. Her expression was deathly serious. Hermione on the other hand was beaming on the inside. She had a family…somewhat.

The dark witch continued. "You have experienced a lot of pain recently, yes? I can see that whenever someone hurts Fleur, it triggers such turbulent emotions inside of you. You would fall upon your own sword before you allow any harm to come to her. My dear child, this possessiveness you feel, this need to persistently protect Fleur, could very well bring about your own downfall one day."

Hermione wriggled out from Bellatrix' arms and gaped at the older witch. "That's unfair!" She pushed her away with a hard shove. "You can't fault me on that! Fleur is all I have!" She spat.

Bellatrix frowned. "You have me as well."

Hermione swallowed hard. "That I do…"

"I only say this to you, for you are following a path that I am all too familiar with. Slowly you are becoming the _**monster**_that I am." Bellatrix stood to full height and snarled through her clenched teeth. "No one knows or cares that I didn't always share the pureblood fanaticism with my blasted father. Myfather…who, on the daily, would beat me and my sisters. We three were but an obligation to him. The fact that his miserable seed failed to produce him a male heir constantly plagued him. Each time he looked upon myself, Narcissa or Andromeda he was disgusted. He didn't want the Black line to end with him, nor did he wish for his daughters to denigrate the _precious Black blood _that flows within us_. _That is why Andy was cast out…" Bella buried her face in her open palms and began to pace. "And the _muggles…_a blight_…_spreading like a plague. Infecting the festering wound that is this country_._" The words were like acid on the dark witch's tongue.

Hermione became nervous, as the very ground Bellatrix walked upon started to burn, flames lapping at the tattered fabric of her dress. "Bella…I never meant to dredge up bad memories."

"Already I have said too much. We have much to do, but for now you should go see Fleur."

Hermione was unsure of what to say, for she feared what else Bellatrix might do if more anger was brought to her. "Will you come with me at least? I…I want to introduce you to her. You're the closest thing I have to a family." The request was timid.

As Hermione spoke the word _family,_ Bellatrix stopped her pacing and gave a slight grin. "Surely she is with Cissy still."

* * *

Narcissa and Fleur sat in the study, chatting quietly amongst themselves as Bellatrix and Hermione entered. At the sight of the brunette, Fleur sprung to her feet and rushed toward the girl, capturing her lips in a chaste kiss. "Are you 'urt mon ange?" They kissed once more with fervor. "I love you 'Ermione!"

Hermione shook her head and her shoulders slackened. The hug she was now enveloped in was the only support her body had keeping her upright. Her knees shook and her ankles ached. Looking at Fleur through bloodshot eyes, she swallowed the sobs that wanted to come forth. Sensing the girl's weakness, Fleur held her tighter and caressed the skin of Hermione's arms, still cold and slick with cold rainwater. Fleur lightly rocked Hermione side to side, whispering words of love into her tousled hair. Hermione's eyes rolled back into her head at the sound, for it was the most beautiful sound she had heard all day. "It has been quite the evening love..." Hermione admitted. "To say the least…"

"They are still here aren't they Bella." Narcissa said in a monotone voice from her seat. Bellatrix nodded.

"Yes."

Hermione wrapped her fingers around Fleur's wrist and guided the French witch toward Bellatrix. "Now that we have a moments peace, Fleur I'd like you to meet Bellatrix Lestrange, my godmother. Bella, this is my girlfriend, Fleur Delacour."

Bellatrix smiled warmly and extended a hand. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you properly."

Fleur recoiled slightly, unsure of how to act around the dark witch. "Forgive me 'eef I am acting out of line Mademoiselle Lestrange but I 'ave never been 'een 'zee presence of a Death Eater before. 'Eet 'ees a bit...scary."

"My reputation precedes me it seems." Bellatrix laughed. "Fret not my dear, it's quite alright. I have done quite a few things that would make such a response appropriate Miss Delacour. I only wished to meet my daugh—goddaughter's beloved."

Hermione lifted an eyebrow at the stumbled words. "Thinking of me as your own Bella?"

Bellatrix gave a nervous laugh. "Perhaps…" She took Fleur's hand in her own and gave it a gentle shake. "So you are the one that has captured Hermione's heart." Fleur blushed and nodded, returning to Hermione's embrace once the dark witch released her hands. "I'd love a moment to speak with you alone…if that is alright with you Hermione."

"Of course. Fleur?" The two women walked side by side out across the hallway to an adjacent room. Hermione approached Narcissa, who was absently leafing through a book while sitting on a couch. Hermione lowered herself onto the free cushion to Narcissa's left and immediately stretched her arms high above her head. The plush cushions felt luxurious underneath her aching limbs.

"I should thank you Miss Gaunt." Narcissa began, her eyes not once looking up from her page. "Since you have seemingly risen from the dead, I feel as though I've been getting my sister back."

"You're…you're welcome?"

"It goes without saying that Bellatrix has lived a chaotic life. As my oldest sister, she bore the brunt of my father's rage, throwing herself in front of his fists before he could strike either myself or…Andromeda." Narcissa turned to face Hermione, her expression grave. "Cygnus broke Bellatrix. As the Dark Lord rose to power, our father watched him with great interest...but we could not be bothered, my sisters and I. Yes we exuded the haughty air that was expected of women of wealth like us, but we cared little for the lofty goals of Lord Voldemort. Bella was sucked in to the madness after she was betrothed against her will, to that _pig_ Rodolphus. A pathetic attempt by our father to continue a pureblood line, even if it weren't his own."

"Bella was married off? When did she become a Death Eater?"

"Patience girl. You need to understand how important you are to my sister. How important your mother was to her."

"Regulus' journal mentions how Bella would _look_ at my mother…I…I have my suspicions…though I've never had the chance to ask Bella herself about it. I actually haven't asked her anything about Helen."

"Bellatrix Black was…and still is…_in love_ with your mother...the death of your mother set into motion the downward spiral of Bella's sanity. She developed an insatiable thirst for blood and revenge over her death. Bella was so utterly blinded by hatred and anger…to the point where she had all but forgotten Helen completely. She tortured people, killed our cousin. All of it with no thought but to quash the burgeoning muggle menace and, of course, to please the Dark Lord. It was her only purpose in life…and then she found…_you_."

Hermione's eyes went wide. "Did Helen love her too?"

"Oh yes. It is even likely that Helen fell for Bella first. She lived with us for a few years, though Bellatrix had already moved in with Rodolphus by the time she had gotten there."

"Regulus wrote that she had been…adopted by your father."

Narcissa nodded. "Yes, in an atypical act of humanity Cygnus allowed her to move in with us, and attend Hogwarts. She was only there for her final two years, as her ogre of a father Morfin forbade her from attending the school. It was rather impressive how advanced she was, and Professor Dumbledore was more than willing to allow her to delve right into 6th year, and naturally she was sorted into Slytherin."

Hermione unconsciously leaned forward, her intellectual curiosity in high gear; this was the most she'd heard about Helen at all since discovering her new identity. "But if Helen was in school…how did she and Bella fall in love? They must've been at least 5 years apart in age!"

"Of the exact moment I am unsure. We saw Bella at our home on occasion, and by the middle of 7th year Aunt Walburga and Uncle Orion were convincing our father that Helen was a perfect match for cousin Regulus…and she was the last hope of the Black family to find a male heir. And poor Helen was dragged into the pureblood extremism we were so used to at that point. Andromeda was disowned. Sirius too. I myself had begun to fall in love with Lucius. That left the fate of the Black family with her and Regulus."

"So what happened! Please don't leave me hanging Narcissa!"

At that moment, Bellatrix and Fleur emerged both laughing lightly, the noise bringing a small grin to Hermione's face. Narcissa spoke in a rapid whisper as her sister slowly made her approach. "Hermione I grow weary of family memories. Perhaps at another time, but know this, you are changing my sister. No doubt that you see she behaves differently. My sister used to kiss the very ground the Dark Lord walked across, now she stands upon her own two feet. She is returning to her old self…and I have you to thank for that."

The four women sat in the study for a while, exchanging stories and jokes. Fleur sat on Hermione's lap, Bella and Narcissa shared the couch. House elves brought up a carafe of chilled wine and four glasses, filling each with the crisp chardonnay.

Bellatrix held a glass aloft with a smile. "To family…"

* * *

_The dank acrid smell burned the delicate hairs of her nose. A mucous like film coated her pupils as she struggled to focus on the blurred form in front of her. Mouth dry and aching as if it had been at some point stuffed full with cotton she brought a hand to her cracked lips and ran her fingers across the bruised skin. Idly she felt for something to hold on to, something to brace herself on to raise up onto her unsteady legs. All her fingertips felt was the corpselike cold of rotted cinderblock, damp with the humid air. Once on her feet she rubbed the grime from her eyelids; her pupils nearly regaining their sight. She gasped at what was before her. A cell. Behind the rusting iron bars a figure sat crumpled against the far wall, arms shackled high above their head. The person's neck hung limp, the muscles barely strong enough to hold up the head. Their wrists were bent at a sickening angle, the delicate bones having been fractured under the pressure of supporting their weight for so long. The prisoner was dressed in tattered rags, and appeared emaciated; with skin like paper draped over their skeleton. She approached the bars, wrapping her fingers around the flaking metal. Straining to focus, her breath caught in her lungs as the meager moonlight from the lone window reflected in a veil of golden blonde hair. "Fleur!" the name exploded forth in a scream. The limp figure looked up at the sound and Fleur's eyes grew wide._

_"'Ermione?". Her voice was weak, defeated. _

_Hermione clawed at the bars of the cell, hoping perhaps she could rip them straight out of the wall. Try as she might, the barrier separating them remained. Fleur began to struggle against her chains. "'Elp me...don't let 'zem touch me again...". Her voice sounded wet, thick with fluid from frothing up from her lungs, ravages of infection having gripped her._

_"Who did this!". Hermione screamed, cutting open her knuckle with a frustrated punch at the bars. _

_Fleur shushed her. "Not so loud mon ange! 'Zey will 'ear you!"_

_"What's going on down here?" Came a gruff voice from down the corridor. Hermione blanched but did not relent on trying to yank open the cell. Two hooded figures suddenly appeared, their wands drawn. One took a single step toward Hermione and with blinding speed knocked her back with a stunning spell. Once she lay sprawled on the cold stone floor the two hooded figures turned to face one another before breaking into a maniacal laughter. "He was right. Bringing the Veela here was a sure fire lure to bring her here." A woman's voice._

_"He will be most pleased. With her abilities we'll be guaranteed victory now."_

_"What if she doesn't cooperate?" The female asked._

_The male turned to face Hermione. "We do THIS!". He whipped around and aimed his wand at Fleur. "CRUCIO!". The blonde was struck by the crimson bold dead in the chest and the bloodcurdling scream that erupted from her already ravaged throat caused Hermione physical pain. She watched helplessly as Fleur thrashed against her bondage, her skeletal body nearly snapping under her own weight. The two hooded people laughed loudly before the curse stopped. Fleur slumped over, out cold with her forehead touching the cell floor._

_"We must summon him!". The female voice shrieked._

_"Allow me sister. For I am his most loyal follower and it is only fair that I present him with his greatest betrayer.". Hermione wanted to scream when her captor's hood whipped back to reveal the face of Ron Weasley. He held his wand aloft and shouted "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_

Hermione whipped up like a catapult, her breathing nearly putting her into convulsions. Curled up amongst silken sheets, Fleur clung tightly to Hermione's lissom frame, sound asleep, her blonde hair fanned like a halo around her head. Sweat began to bead on the brunette's forehead as a tsunami of relief washed over her. "Just a dream...just a dream..."

* * *

**A/N:** I feel very lucky to have the opportunity to share this tale with you, and I also feel blessed whenever any one takes the time to leave a review. Now, it is my own personal policy to never ask/beg for reviews, as it is not a requirement involved with reading this fic…or any fic for that matter. Nor do I intend to start asking for them now. That said, anytime anyone does believe this fic warrants a comment, no matter how good or bad you think my work actually is, I just want you to know that I deeply appreciate that you took the time to leave it.

So in a long-winded way, I just want to say thanks to all of you. Even to those who don't leave reviews, thank you for giving up a piece of your day and allowing me to share this little slice of my imagination with you. I know this fic is getting quite long and if you're reading this, it means you've been sticking with me throughout this whole crazy adventure.

In summation, all of you guys rock, and certainly never fail to put a smile on my face. :)

-mox


	16. Walking on a Dream

**A/N:** Thanks for all of the well wishes. You guys are the best! What follows is my lame attempt at fluff. XD Have mercy on me! Also this chapter was typed on an iPad, so hopefully I've caught all of it's errors. (That's right, I take no responsibility for the iPad's nefarious autocorrect actions!)

I initially titled this one wrong. It is supposed to be "Walking on a Dream". XP Check the fictrack on my profile, cuz this song has my head bopping for hours on end!

* * *

Christmas was fast approaching, and Hermione found herself at a loss. Headmistress McGonagall had given her a verbal thrashing for sneaking off the grounds and continually probed the young witch for her holiday plans. Undoubtedly, Hermione wished for nothing more than to spend the holiday with Fleur but with her beloved living at the Malfoy Manor, the cavernous mansion hardly seemed the appropriate atmosphere for a warm Christmas.

Her thoughts wandered to the Grangers, and her heart stung for the briefest of moments. This was surely to be the first holiday spent away from them, and she wondered what they were doing without her. What explanations had they concocted to explain her absence in their lives to their relatives? There had been a simple Christmas card sent to her in the mail, a sterile 'Happy Christmas; signed with their first names in ballpoint pen. Hermione held the card in her hand, completely devoid of emotion, she absently thumbed the etching of Mr. Granger's heavy print. Unable to look at it any longer, she stowed in the top drawer of her nightstand.

With a heavy heart she realized that she would be among the 'forgotten'…the handful of Hogwarts students that had nowhere to go for the holidays. Hermione had never been included amongst them before. Once this fact had been relayed to the Headmistress, McGonagall gaped at the young woman in shock. "Miss Granger, are you not joining your friends for this holiday?"

The young witch expected this response. "Times are dangerous Professor. With You-Know-Who's whereabouts so unknown, I feel that I am much safer here…and the Ministry has requested that…people like me…distance ourselves from our muggle families. It is indeed quite disheartening." Hermione cleared her throat. "Though I do have a single request if you would entertain it."

McGonagall nodded. "Of course."

"I understand that I haven't exactly been the shining pupil lately though I have been making an effort to get better. I hope that despite that, it is not too much to ask if…"

"Miss Delacour could come to the grounds for the holiday?" McGonagall completed, leaving Hermione slack jawed. "Oh don't play coy with me Miss Granger. As Headmistress my eyes and ears are privy to much in these halls. I have heard the rumors, the comments, seen the stares and how you have been keeping to yourself since you started term. I know it must be her to whom you disappear to on weekends."

"Professor…I"

After quickly adjusting the spectacles precariously perched on her nose, the elder witch's aged hands came to rest on her oak desk. "Under normal circumstances it would behoove me to promptly decline such a request; as it is what is expected of me given your recent behavior. You have a knack for being quite the escape artist." Hermione sucked in a breath. "Though it seems that you have been through much, and Fleur as well…" The headmistress absently fingered the phylactery around her neck. "…it would leave me bereft of the Christmas spirit to deny you some happiness Miss Granger."

For what felt like the first time in ages, Hermione smiled a genuinely happy smile. "I am speechless. This is just…wonderful! Thank you so much…"

"However I have some conditions."

"Anything Professor." Said Hermione, leaning into the desk eagerly.

"Fleur is to be with you at all times; she is not to leave the grounds while she is here and she is to depart at least a full day before the student body returns. If I suspect that either of you is up to no good, she will be promptly asked to leave. Can you agree to that Miss Granger?"

"Of course." The Gryffindor gave a fervent nod. "Thanks…so much…"

"I am sure you are anxious to message Miss Delacour I will not hold you here any longer." Her words were cut short from a bone-crushing hug

"Happy Christmas professor!" And with that Hermione ran full speed out of McGonagall's office making a beeline for the owlery.

* * *

Fleur arrived at the castle on the eve of the 23rd of December. Hermione greeted Fleur on the front steps of Hogwarts, where the blonde witch stood with a small suitcase clutched in her gloved hands. She was dressed in an elegant blue double-breasted pea coat with a matching hat and a grey scarf. Hermione found her to be absolutely adorable.

"Cissy let you come I see." Holding open the large doors, Hermione held Fleur's gaze as a wide infectious grin spread on her face.

"Well of course 'Ermione. Narcissa 'ees not so coldhearted as she lets on. We 'ave become good friends actually."

"That's wonderful Fleur..." Hermione took hold of Fleur's suitcase and placed it down gently at her feet. Her arms came to rest upon Fleur's shoulders as she wrapped them around the blonde's neck. Their foreheads came to rest together as Hermione's eyes stared longingly into Fleur's. "Happy Christmas baby…" She whispered, followed by a tender kiss.

"_Joyeux Noel mon amo_r."

* * *

The castle was nearly empty on Christmas Eve. Only a handful of students and professors remained. The war affected everything. There were decorations hung on the walls but they were not nearly as intricate as they had been in the past. Neither Hermione nor Fleur cared much for the emptiness; the vast castle had never once felt so cozy. Arms looped together, the two lovers revisited the blonde's many memories of her brief time at the school.

"And here is where we had our fateful first encounter…over a nice bowl of bouillabaisse." Hermione mused now that they stood at the door of the Great Hall. The cavernous room was nearly empty, save for a few students dotting the tables here and there.

Fleur let out a sigh. "Imagine 'eef we fell 'een love back 'zen…'ow different 'zings would've been." Fleur gathered Hermione into her embrace with a smile. "'Zee dragon of 'zee first task, I'd slay 'eet for you. I'd 'ave whisked you away to 'zee carriage 'zat same night, made love to you…"

Hermione blushed at the thought. "Sweetheart we were so young then!"

Fleur took the brunette's hands in her own, holding the younger witch as if they were about to waltz. She spun Hermione around before dipping her back for kiss. "Certainly I would 'ave taken you to 'zee ball…danced wiz you for 'zee Champions dance…maybe sneak off into 'zee courtyards…steal a kiss…or 'zree." Hermione blushed an even deeper shade of crimson as Fleur's lips pressed themselves tenderly against the soft veins of her throat. "You were so stunning 'een 'zat dress, I'll admit I couldn't take my eyes off of you…Viktor did not know 'ow lucky 'e was…"

The quarter-veela suckled gently on the soft skin. "Oh Fleur…what next…" Hermione's voice grew husky as the blonde witch continued with her playful caresses.

"I would ask you to join me 'een 'zee bath to open 'zee golden egg…and whezzer or not you would be mine to save, I'd brave 'zee Grindylows of 'zee Black Lake and rescue you and my sister. Once we'd break 'zee surface, I'd resuscitate you wiz a kiss." Fleur emphasized her story with a hungry deep kiss. "And 'zee final task…well…I would do whatever 'eet takes to ensure 'zat I return to you…and once 'eet 'ees time to leave I'd shrink you down so 'zat you can fit 'een 'zee pocket of my jeans, and I'd sneak you back to France wiz me…you'd be mine forever!" The two women giggled, and snuck more kisses.

They walked across the courtyard, the moonlight dazzling in reflection upon each falling snowflake. It was blissful. A light dusting of snow collected upon Fleur's golden hair and her azure eyes shone like two diamonds beset in fine silk. The sight left Hermione breathless as she pulled Fleur's body against her own, the familiar warmth causing her eyes to flutter. Loving touches and feather soft kisses were exchanged between them, the only witnesses to their affections being the brilliant moon hovering above them.

After a few moments of precious silence, Fleur's body quaked with a light shiver. "Cold?" Hermione smiled as Fleur nodded. "We should head upstairs…don't want to get caught outside by Father Christmas do we?"

"I don't see why 'eet matters…" Fleur quipped. "You are most likely on 'zee naughty list anyway."

At this, Hermione raised an eyebrow, and upon her face was a coy expression. "Naughty really?"

"Oui very much so. 'Zere may not be any 'ope for you getting off 'zat list."

"Getting off?" A Cheshire grin accompanied the words and Fleur crossed her arms tightly with a huff.

"Stop twisting my words 'Ermione! I am only trying to make fun!"

"I know that darling, but you just make it so…easy."

"Oh so now you 'zink I am easy?" Fleur feigned indignance as Hermione absently tucked a stray strand of hair behind the blonde's ear.

"Touché." Hermione extended a hand. "Come now, before we both catch our death out here." Fleur bent down and immediately pelted Hermione with a snowball before taking off full speed. Hermione gave chase, dodging a hailstorm of snowballs before wrestling the playful blonde to the ground. A fistful of snow was shoved down the back of Hermione's coat and she screamed at the top of her lungs. And the shivers wracked her body, her teeth chattering loudly. Overcome with concern, the veela gathered the Gryffindor into her arms, rubbing them vigorously.

"I am so sorry ma belle!" Fleur's lament was cut short by a snowball being thrusted into the front of her coat. Hermione smiled wickedly.

"Victory is mine!" The two women descended into a fit of laughter, continuing to wrestle playfully in the snow under the watchful moon.

Hermione pressed her lips to Fleur's once they had calmed down, and stood to extend a hand. Fleur was pulled up into Hermione's embrace. "Lets go warm up baby." They slipped into the warmth of the castle and disappeared among the multitude of staircases and corridors.

* * *

The Gryffindor tower was almost completely devoid of life, but to Hermione it had never felt more alive. She and Fleur could be as open as they wished, spending all waking moments together, taking meals in the common room, bathing together, and curling up in front of the fireplace at night with one of Hermione's muggle novels. Fleur even snuck in a few bottles of wine.

A blanket was draped over them both as Fleur quietly sipped from a hot mug of cocoa and Hermione reading aloud from _Great Expectations._ It was bliss, revisiting the summer that brought them together. Fleur had brought the cherry red surfboard with her, still shrunken of course, complete with a little stand. This simple gift reduced Hermione to tears, she longed to return to the shore one day with Fleur at her side. Sitting on the couch in the common room after a quiet meal, Hermione had an arm wrapped around the veelas shoulder holding her close, and Fleur leaned her head into the crook of the brunette's neck. They sat like this for a little while until Fleur slipped out from Hermione's arms and disappeared into the dormitory. Hermione gave chase only to have the door slammed in her face. Wrestling with the knob, Hermione could not get it open.

"Now, now we mustn't peak 'Ermione." Fleur tutted from behind the oaken door. Hermione chuckled and leant against the wood, pressing an ear to it.

"What're you doing in there? Why won't you let me in?"

"Don't try anyzing, I 'ave jinxed 'zee door should you attempt to unlock 'eet!" Fleur snapped. "As for what I am doing…I am wrapping your Christmas gift!"

Her stomach plunged through the floor. She had nothing to give to the French witch. Money was scarce, and much of her time had been devoted to Fleur and preparations for the Jubilee. "Fleur…I have a confession to make."

"And what might 'zat be?"

"I—well that is to say, I don't have a Christmas gift for you…" Tears threatened to fall from her eyes as she spoke her confession. Clinging to the hope that Fleur would continue to be forgiving, Hermione was surprised to see the French woman's head poking out from the slightly ajar door.

"'Ermione…do not worry your pretty 'ead. _You_ are 'zee best gift I could ever ask for. Better 'zan any jewelry, flowers, poems…'zey are all but trivial 'zings…_you_ are priceless. And 'eef you must know, I 'ave gotten you a doll."

"A doll?" Hermione tilted her head in a puppy like fashion, causing the older witch to giggle and nod. "Don't you think I'm a bit old for a doll?"

"Non 'Ermy." _Click!_ Fleur retreated back into the room for a few more minutes before calling out for Hermione to enter. Her dormitory was bathed in darkness, and Hermione reached toward the sidewall instinctively feeling for a switch. The gas lamps burst to life and Hermione's heart seized inside her chest at the sight of Fleur's present.

Wrapped intricately in bright red ribbon, a very naked Fleur gazed back seductively at Hermione, a bowl of ripened strawberries in her left hand, her right bringing one of the succulent berries to her lips. A rivulet of crimson juice dribbled down her lower lip and chine as she took a bite. Hermione could only stare at the drop of juice trailed down the gentle slope of Fleur's neck before disappearing into the valley between Fleur's breasts, both pressed together by a single line of ribbon. The satin ribbon was tied into a large bow on the top of her head, and her woven outfit just barely covered Fleur's most intimate places.

"Joyeux Noel, mon amor." The words thick like honey drew the brunette closer. A lithe arm extended outward, with a succulent berry held precariously among nimble fingers. The blonde witch traced the outline of Hermione's lips with the tip of the berry, and the brunette's tongue flicked out and teased the edge of the fruit. Hermione opened her mouth and welcomed the fruit, taking a bite of it and sucking the juice from Fleur's porcelain fingers. Her tongue darted out to lick the supple skin in between.

Hermione leaned close, bringing her mouth to Fleur's ear, "Might I unwrap my present…I would love to play with my doll…" Nipping at the blonde's earlobe, Hermione had to catch her as her legs shook at the sensation. Their eyes met, and both wore the appearance of being both drunk and winded; mouths slacken, and eyelids heavy. Fleur's hair was in a loose ponytail, and she wore no makeup. To Hermione, she never looked more radiant, and she met the blonde's lips with her own, the taste of Fleur and strawberries completely intoxicating.

Without warning one of Fleur's hands dipped into the liner of Hermione's jeans and her wanton fingers pressed themselves against the brunette's sex, teasing the organ gently. The French witch purred as she watched Hermione's expression change when grazed a particularly sensitive spot. Fingers broke into the threshold of Hermione's opening, and the younger woman could barely stifle the moan that escaped her throat. Fleur kissed the angular lines of Hermione's jaw until she met the girl's lips. Their next kiss was a messy battle of tongues; Fleur expressing a profound hunger for the young witch with her tongue plunging deeply into Hermione's mouth.

They pulled apart after an ephemeral eternity, both nearly out of breath. The two women pressed their foreheads together and sighed. "Fleur…this is…wow."

"I 'ave to confess to not 'aving a gift for you as well…Narcissa 'asn't let me leave 'zee manor until now." Fleur blushed. "'Zough you like 'zis non? I found 'zee ribbon 'een 'zee manor, Narcissa let me 'ave 'eet."

"Like it? I adore it! Brilliant! Best Christmas gift I've ever received!" Hermione quickly lifted the blonde from the floor and cradled her against her chest, pressing a kiss to Fleur's forehead. She spun around the room, reducing the blonde to a fit of giggles. "Fleur, the relationship we share is a gift that I am always thankful for." She made her way to her bed, gently laying Fleur down on top of it, before laying down herself and welcoming the blonde into her arms. "So much has happened to us, so many terrible and unexpected things, and it leaves me at a loss for words how lucky I am that you are still by my side. Sometimes I feel that I ask too much of you."

"Ermy, je'taime. We will get 'zrough 'zis togezzer. I know 'eet. We 'ave a family now, Bellatrix and Narcissa will 'elp us 'eef we need 'eet." Fleur gave Hermione a small kiss. "Even wizout 'zem, we 'ave each uzzer."

"Fleur…" Hermione choked on her words. "I sometimes think that I don't deserve you."

"'Ermione, why say such a 'zing? Every one deserves 'appiness…"

The normally articulate brunette found herself stumbling upon her words. "Had we not…Had I not…you might still be with a job and a home…safe with Bill. And not living in the lion's den."

"And I would be alone. Left wondering what could 'ave been. Still I would be called 'Phlegm' and still I would be a stranger 'een my own 'ome. And above all else my life would be so…boring. You bring an element of danger and excitement!" Fleur took both of her lover's hands and pressed them against her heart; Hermione could feel the organ smoothly beating beneath the woman's rib cage. "'I truly believe everyzing 'appens for a reason mon ange. 'Zis…_us…_was meant to be." It was all Hermione needed to hear.

Suddenly two bodies intertwined like the threads in a rope, lips catching and fingertips running miles along soft skin. Slowly the ribbon became unraveled, revealing the precious curves and valleys that Hermione had longed to see for weeks. Hermione's clothes were also shed, and she shuddered as her skin was exposed to the chill of the nighttime air. And Fleur placed her lips upon several sensitive spots along the brunettes body, each ministration producing heat where the two pillow soft lips had touched. Strong arms closed tightly around rose petal skin. They began to make love. A passionate hunger passed between them both, igniting desires and senses that had been lying dormant in the days past. The recent pain and anger Hermione had been experiencing was all but wiped away with each tender caress from the quarter-Veela's fingers. The very air of the room became hot and humid with the thick smell of passion. They swam amongst the blankets. And after Fleur had gifted the brunette with the first climax of that evening, Hermione started to cry with joy.

Hermione deftly rolled the French woman onto her back and straddled her, the dampness of her sex slick on Fleur's stomach. Hermione gazed back at her lover longingly, as the French witch chewed on her lower lip; an expression that drove the Gryffindor wild. Fleur whimpered as Hermione began her slow descent down the valley of her abdomen, nipping and kissing the skin as she went lower. Her hands came to rest upon the blonde's breasts; gently kneading the soft flesh, tweaking the now hardened nubs with her thumbs. The sudden sensation of Hermione's mouth pressed hard against her clit sent the French witch over the edge with her back rising up into a broad arch. She drug her fingernails don the expanse of Fleur's body, and pushed two fingers inside. Hermione continued to thrust with a rapid rhythm, Fleur's musical cries reaching a crescendo. She came hard around Hermione's fingers, the muscles moving in waves. The brunette suddenly became infinitely aware of her own arousal as the sensation was nothing short of incredible. Bringing the fingers to her lips, Hermione tasted the blonde. If heaven had a taste, she mused, this would be better.

An hour had passed before they finally laid back to gather their bearings. Slick and shiny with sweat, the two lovers cuddled closely upon Hermione's bed. Fleur's chest rose and fell in a gentle rhythm and her stomach was mottled with sticky spots of strawberry juice in the shape of lips. The brunette lazily traced the ridge of Fleur's abdomen with her fingertips.

Fleur was the first to break the silence, lifting her head from one of Hermione's breasts that she was using as a pillow. "Do you ever 'zink about 'zee future 'Ermy?"

Hermione stifled a yawn. "What do you mean?"

"Do you see us...a year, five years, ten years from now?". Fleur absently traced circles around one of Hermione's soft areolas with her fingertip, stopping to play with the nipple every now and again.

"Like...marriage?"

"Perhaps. A family. A 'ome to call our own."

"I mostly think about what tomorrow may bring to be honest...and I am not certain you and I are even allowed to get married..."

"Well marriage 'ees just a symbol 'ees 'eet not?"

"Regardless of the legality, Fleur, I don't need a fancy ceremony or a ring to reaffirm what I already feel...I certainly wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life with you...I could think of far worse things.". Hermione smiled. Fleur rapped her on the nose.

"'Ermy I am being serious!" She said with a giggle.

"And so am I! I'd much rather use the money for a lavish wedding and buy the seaside cottage with the white picket fence. Maybe a dog or two...corgis! Yes two Pembroke Welsh Corgis and we each get to name one. And most certainly we'd have a child."

"I'd adore 'aving a little girl...but we are two females..."

Hermione hugged the blonde closer, relishing the sensation of their naked bodies pressed so close together. "I am sure we'd find a way around that love...we have our whole lives ahead of us!"

"Once 'zis war 'ees over.". Her tone was despondent.

The brunette pouted. "Come now...it's Christmas sweetheart...let's live in the moment...I love you Fleur Delacour...there's nothing that can change that. I will see this through to the end...help you win back your freedom...and we'll start working on leading normal lives together."

"Normal? 'Ermione 'eef it was normal 'zat I wanted I would've never fallen for you...you are pure excitement...and I love you for 'eet!". She firmly pressed her lips against the younger witch's.

* * *

They had been sharing coffee and biscotti on Hermione's bed the following morning, a book open on the brunette's lap. Fleur suddenly leapt to her feet, reminded of something. "Oh 'Ermy I 'ave somezing for you!" Fleur went to her suitcase and produced a small plush leather pouch. "Bellatrix gave 'zis to me before I left!" As she handed the satchel to Hermione, the light sounds of clinking glass could be heard. "I promise I did not peek!"

"Is this a gift?"

Fleur nodded. "Oui. Open 'eet! I 'ave been curious all day to know what 'eet 'ees!"

Pulling open the pouch Hermione gave a confused look as three small crystal vials greeted her, each with a strange wisp like entity swirling inside it. Holding one of the vials up into the light she turned it slowly and inspected it closely.

"Oh! 'Ow exciting!" Fleur smiled broadly while lightly clapping her hands in excitement. "Do you know what 'zat 'ees?" Fleur probed, gently taking out one of the vials in her own hand.

"Not quite sure. I've…never seen anything like this before."

"'Ermy, 'eet 'ees a memory!"

"This…liquid?"

"'Ermione, are you not 'zee brightest witch of your year? Surely you 'ave learned about memory charms. 'Een 'zis vial 'ees 'zee physical manifestation of a memory. A witch or wizard can siphon a memory from 'zeir mind for safekeeping." As if to demonstrate her point, the blonde playfully tapped Hermione's left temple with the tip of her wand. "'Eet 'ees difficult magic but quite useful. Bellatrix must 'ave 'zree memories 'zat she wishes to share wiz you. A 'zoughtful gift indeed!"

"Am I supposed to…drink it?"

Fleur hastily grabbed the vial and returned it to the pouch with the others. "Non! We must use a pensieve to view 'zese. We 'ad one at Beauxbatons, 'eet 'ees a truly remarkable object. 'Zere 'as to be one 'een 'zis castle."

Hermione brought her thumb and pointer finger to her chin, deep in thought. The word was familiar. "Pensieve…pensieve…pensieve…Aha! I think I recall Harry once speaking of something called a pensieve. Yes! Perhaps in Dumbledore's office!" Hermione paused for a moment. "But it will take some creative persuasion to convince Professor McGonagall to let us use it. I doubt merely asking to view the memories of Bellatrix Lestrange would be sufficient enough."

"Maybe you could tell 'er 'zey are my memories…'zat _I _gave 'zese vials to you as a gift. 'Eet could be my recollection of our first kiss…" Fleur blushed a deep crimson and Hermione leaned forward to claim the blonde girl's lips with her own.

"I would love to relive that moment sweetheart."

It wasn't easy but McGonagall finally relented, allowing the two women access to the ancient pensieve sitting atop an equally archaic pedestal. Hermione gazed down into the swirling liquid with trepidation. Fleur handed one of the fragile vials to Hermione and planted a quick kiss on the girl's cheek. "Gently pour 'zee memory 'eento 'zis bowl, and simply look 'een." Her thumb gently grazed the skin of Hermione's cheek. With a quick kiss to the forehead, Fleur made her way to the door of the office.

The wisp slithered out of the vial and into the dish with a faint plop. It swirled wildly in the mist of the pensieve, before suddenly changing colors. Faint images of what appeared to be people slowly materialized in the swirling liquid. Hermione dipped her face into the pensieve and instantly she felt the sensation of falling. Falling down deeper and deeper. Her stomach had lodged itself in her throat. The colors surrounding her swirled and writhed until when she finally feared she would strike the bottom, they immediately came into perfect focus. Getting her bearings her eyes felt as though there was a veil pulled over her face.

"Ahh Horace! You old goat, I knew you'd make it!" A joyous voice had shouted. Hermione shook her head blinking wildly as she found herself standing in the very epicenter of a lavish holiday party. People paid her no mind as they danced and drank all around her. The voices she heard were coming from the front door of the house where a relatively younger Horace Slughorn was shaking snow from his cloak. A tall man around the same age with jet-black hair and a manicured goatee was patting Slughorn's back, beckoning the old professor into the party with a broad sweep of his arms. Shutting the door behind them Slughorn and the man walked straight into the throng of people. The elegant home had been decorated with garlands and tinsel. A magnificent Christmas tree was illuminated in the far corner. The house was packed, with a myriad of very wealthy looking people. Each guest was dressed in elegant robes, the women adorned with constellations of jewelry. House elves flitted about carrying trays filled with wine glasses and hors d'oeuvres. It was a holiday party. People drunkenly sang carols and children ran about in a blur of laughter.

Another knock came from the front door and a house elf scrambled to answer it. Standing in the doorframe was a handsome young couple that Hermione instantly recognized.

Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange.

* * *

ttfn…tata for now!


	17. Two Doves

Four words: I heart this chapter.

Oh! And this one goes out to **MadameCissy**. Check out her stuff, you won't be disappointed!

* * *

"Bella!" Two voices squealed as footsteps thundered toward the front door. Bellatrix whipped her sable mane back and forth, shaking the snow from her ringlets. The myriad of red and green tinsel reflected like gemstones in the sheen of her hair. Her face was positively beaming as the sight of her two beloved younger sisters, Andromeda and Narcissa Black, greeted her.

"Cissy! Andy!" Bellatrix held her arms open wide, beckoning the two younger Black sisters into a crushing hug. Rodolphus shrugging the snow from his shoulders, pushed past the three siblings and trudged into the home throwing his overcoat on top of an unsuspecting house elf.

"Happy Christmas Bella!" Andromeda cried, her right arm now resting on Narcissa's shoulder. "We've missed you!"

"Happy Christmas to you as well Andy." Bellatrix gave a warm smile, overjoyed at the sight of her two younger sisters dressed like royalty. Andromeda wore a strapless burgundy dress and had her auburn hair tied into an elegant French twist. While Narcissa donned an elegant green satin gown, and like Bellatrix, opted to wear her golden hair down.

Bellatrix wore a simple black bodice and matching skirt, and strapped to her feet were lace up knee high boots. Her bird skull charm rested in the valley of her breasts. "Is the whole family here?" She asked.

"Yes." Andromeda nodded. "Even Aunt Walburga decided to crawl out from under her rock to join us." The brunette joked with a smile, the resulting laughter like music to Bellatrix' ears.

A house elf took Bellatrix' coat and the elder Black linked an arm with each of her sisters, and allowed the two to guide her into the crowd. The party was in full swing, a string quartet was playing sprightly renditions of popular Christmas songs.

"Come, they've got wassail in the kitchen Bella!" Narcissa exclaimed as she and Andromeda led Bellatrix by the arms through the large crowd of partygoers. Bellatrix felt as if she were 12 again, sneaking off behind her parent's backs to sneak treats from the kitchens.

Arriving in the kitchen, Andromeda pulled out her wand to summon three glasses, and Narcissa skillfully filled each with a large silver ladle, careful not to spill a single drop of the hot drink. Bellatrix rummaged through the cabinets until she found a garish crystal decanter containing an amber alcohol. She pulled free the stopper and inhaled the aroma of the alcohol within and Bellatrix proceeded to spike each of their glasses with the expensive brandy. Her charcoal eyes darted from left to right before she took several sips straight from the hand-blown glass decanter. Narcissa chuckled. "Oh Bella, if mother saw you partaking in her prized Cognac…she'd have your head!"

Bellatrix smiled wickedly as she raised the ornate decanter once more. "Better to drink up then!" And she took one last swig.

Andromeda leant on the counter top, absently rapping her fingers on the sides of her glass. "Can you believe it is only a week until it is 1978? Where has the time gone? Cissy you'll be done with Hogwarts soon enough, and our great triumvirate will have come to a close." She gave a wistful sigh.

Narcissa took a long sip, licking the remnants from her lips. She moaned in delight. "Imagine…only a few short years until the '80s! That is what I find even more incredible!"

The three sisters returned to the living room and sat together on an sumptuous leather couch. Andromeda held her cup aloft, "To Family!"

"Here!" _Clink!_

"So how fare you Cissy? Andy?" Bellatrix asked with a warm smile, reaching across the coffee table for a fingerling sandwich. "Keeping out of trouble I hope."

Andromeda smiled broadly. "Of course dear sister. Unlike you, who has married an utter rogue, I have been conducting myself with utmost finesse. In fact I have nearly completed my healer certification at St. Mungo's." Her back straightened in an expression of personal pride.

The eldest Black reached over for her sister's hand, and gave it a squeeze. "That's so wonderful Andy! And how about you Cissy?"

Narcissa breathed a dreamy sigh, her eyelids fluttering. "I have a feeling that Lucius is going to propose to me after we are through with school!" Andromeda gave a shrill squeal, and Bellatrix could only roll her eyes. "Bella, come now, he is perfect for me."

"A prig. Oh yes. A most appropriate match for you dear sister."

Narcissa could only scoff. "Hush, we can't all be so lucky to marry someone as dashing as Rod."

Bellatrix gave an uncomfortable shrug, her fingers absently tapping an unknown rhythm on the edges of her mug. Across the busy room, Bellatrix spied her husband talking to a gaggle of young women; every so often he'd run a hand through his wavy brown hair, and absently pluck at his finely manicured goatee in a thoughtful manner. A frown grew on her face as she watched him. "What of you Andy? Got a lover of your own?"

Andromeda's eyes flitted nervously from left to right. "Um, no. Still playing the field as they say."

"Better be quick about it." Bellatrix said with a grin. "Next thing you know, father might try to marry you off to Rabastan…"

Narcissa heaved a sigh. "Father's already hard at work with Helen. Poor girl isn't even our blood and father sells her off like he was one of his own."

"Helen?"

Andromeda was surprised. "Bella surely you recall Helen, the girl was at your wedding! Father gave her your room in fact!"

The eldest Black sister was at once incensed. "My room! Father gave some orphan girl my old room? That is ridiculous. And furthermore, what would possess our father, the loathsome creature that he is, to show kindness to another girl?" Her ruby lips curled into a sneer. "He has nary shown us a kindness in the past, why is he starting now?" Her fists clenched tightly in a display of obvious anger.

"What do you care Bella? You left home the instant you finished Hogwarts, and now you live in that lavish mockery of a manor. So what if father might be growing soft? Live and let live Bella!" Andromeda scolded, rapping Bellatrix on the arm.

"Well I intend to give this Helen a piece of my mind. If she is going to live in the noble house of Black she should know what she's getting herself into." She finished her wassail in two huge gulps, and the brandy burned as it traveled down her throat. When the alcohol hit her stomach, a tingling warmth permeated across her body. The two younger Black sisters merely looked at each other with an exasperated shrug, neither seeming to want to attempt to calm their older sister.

Bellatrix stood from the couch and began to march up the stairs. Once she'd reached her old bedroom, she was surprised to see that her old nameplate was still on the door, as was her "Class of 1969" Slytherin pennant, adhered diagonally across the grainy wood. Pressing her ear to the oak she could hear the sounds of light jazz music and someone singing. Easing the door open ever so gently Bellatrix was greeted by the sight of a young brown haired woman. The woman to Bellatrix was, for lack of a better word, quite beautiful. Donning a red satin cocktail dress, she was sitting at Bellatrix' old vanity, deftly pinning up her shining hair into a ballerina bun. She did this with near mathematical precision, as not a single hair on her head was out of place. Her eyes were closed and her head bopped along with the music coming from an old gramophone perched on her nightstand. The woman's voice was deep and melodious; the delicate vibrato sounding like the tender cries of a morning songbird to Bellatrix' ears. She stood mesmerized at the sight and leaned against the doorframe feeling lucky to bear witness to such a performance.

_Somewhere there's music_

_It's where you are_

_Somewhere there's heaven_

_How near how far_

_The darkest night would shine_

_If you would come to me soon_

_Until you will, how still my heart_

_How high the moon…_

A crash of a cymbal and quick march of the snare drum signaled the arrival of a sudden increase in tempo and the young woman started to sing in a fast scat, still completely unaware of Bellatrix' presence in the room.

_How high the moon_

_Is the name of this song_

_How high the moon_

_Though the words may be wrong_

_We're singin' it because you asked for it_

_So we're swingin' it just for you…_

_How high the moon_

_Does it touch the stars?_

_How high the moon_

_Does it reach up to mars?_

_Though the words may be wrong to this song_

_We're askin' how high high high high is the moon…_

She broke into another rapid-fire string of scatting, her fingers loudly snapping in rhythm. The nonsensical syllables flowed from the woman's lips strung together in scales and arpeggios sounding as if they were plucked from a guitar or blown from a flute. Bellatrix had never heard anything quite like it.

The woman stood and pranced toward her closet grabbing a pair of black high heels and quickly throwing them on. She spun around and tap-danced about the room, her arms outstretched as if she had an invisible partner. The song was now an up-tempo drum solo, the woman singing and whistling a tune along with it, occasionally musically improvisational words slipping from her throat. To Bellatrix' amazement as the young woman danced a perfume bottle from the vanity slowly floated toward her, spritzing her three times, followed by a floating powder puff, deftly adding blush to her cheeks as she continued her frenzied dance. Not a wand in sight.

Bellatrix could feel her heart seize in her chest, she had never felt anything like this before in her life. Beauty personified was standing right in front of her, and she was rendered immobilized. The woman's mere presence was magnetic, Bellatrix was being drawn in and she was helpless against it.

The song abruptly came to a close, and Bellatrix clapped loudly and whistled. The sound startled the young woman, who pressed a nervous hand to her now heaving chest, her eyes suddenly going wide.

"Oh my! H-How long have you been standing there?"

Bellatrix entered the room, a smug smile on her painted face. "Long enough. Your voice is…incredible…Miss…Gaunt is it?"

"Y-y-yes! H-h-helen! Helen Gaunt. Gracious me! You're Bellatrix Black! I have always wanted to meet you formally. Oh Merlin, you must think me a nutter seeing me act like this." The girl stuttered, extending a nervous hand to shake with the eldest Black sister. Helen turned away a moment as a slow saxophone solo began on the gramophone but was taken by surprise as Bellatrix took the offered hand and brought it to her lips, placing a gentle kiss on the soft skin. Helen blushed profusely and a stray curl fell over her eyes. Bellatrix' hand acted as though it had a mind of it's own as she gently pushed the hair behind one of Helen's delicate ears. Bellatrix' mind was reeling, her limbs and heart marched headfirst into this situation, and she was completely helpless to the younger woman's charm.

"It's alright you don't have to be so nervous…my sisters have told me you've been staying here. I'll admit I was a bit put off by someone having my old room as I can be quite…possessive…though it seems that my worries are ill-placed."

"Y-yes…your father…took me in. Gave me your old room…I hope that I haven't mucked it up too much. Andy and Cissy told me how important this room was to you…"

Bellatrix' eyes looked along the walls. For the most part Helen was telling the truth, everything looked exactly as she had left it save for the gramophone, and a framed photograph of a city skyline. "Where is that?"

"Oh! That is New York City, in America. I…hope to maybe live there one day. Maybe even sing...as a career that is. Always been a dream of mine…I love music and singing. Unfortunately my post-Hogwarts fate has been sealed. Conducting Ministry research isn't exactly my idea of a rewarding career…nor does it pay well for that matter. Druella has been kind enough to allow me to stay a little longer after graduation while I save up."

Bellatrix crossed the room and sat down at the vanity, crossing her legs at the ankle. Helen absently smoothed her dress as if she were under inspection.

"You must be a pureblood."

Helen nodded. "Yes, yes, I have heard from countless others, Merlin forbid the great Cygnus Black takes in a half-blood orphan." Quickly she turned to meet Bellatrix' gaze, gauging her reaction. Bellatrix merely smirked as if to say I'm not offended. "But if you must know of my status, I am a Gaunt, though I am not proud to be such." Helen drew nearer to Bellatrix, her face inches away and she pointed at her right eye. "It is very subtle but look closely at my eye, it does not hold a gaze in a perfectly straight line…I have a lazy eye…if you will. All of my family bears it. So yes you can call me 'pure' but notice that even with that taxonomy, our blood still comes with…imperfections." Helen sighed and sat down on her bed before beginning again quietly. "Despite the multitude of degenerates in my family…one aspect of my pedigree was of great interest to your father…"

"And that is?"

"I am a direct relative of Slytherin himself." Came the sad answer, the woman's shoulders slung forward. "In your father's eyes…as well as my own father, it might be my only redeeming quality. My aunt Merope, though I never knew her personally…she had Slytherin's locket in her possession. I am unsure of it's whereabouts now."

Bellatrix' eyes went wide. "Slytherin!"

Helen's head hung low, the strand of hair slipping out from behind her ear, veiling her face. Bellatrix needn't lean in any closer to know that the girl was nearly crying.

"That was a muggle song wasn't it? That you were just singing moments ago." Bellatrix asked in a softer voice.

Helen nodded, her gaze meeting the dark haired witch. "Cygnus would be mortified if he heard…" Her words were downcast. Bellatrix drew closer, her thumb and pointer finger turning up the younger woman's chin.

"He must be deaf then…for all I could hear was an angel singing…"

Helen playfully slapped Bellatrix' shoulder, a small grin beginning to grow on her features. "Flatterer."

* * *

The London street was dreary that evening, the cold rain fell in a slow drizzle. Cars and cabs kicked up puddles and steam billowed from manhole covers as several well-dressed figures made their way down the cobble stone street.

They rounded a corner down an alleyway and arrived at a blank wall with a single ragged poster pasted on it. One by one the figures walked directly into the poster, disappearing from sight.

Sanguine Bleu Jazz Club glowed brightly on the neon sign above their heads, the eerie blue glow reflected in rivulets of smoke from several cigarettes, and shimmering martini glasses. A lively jazz piece filled the air, the saxophone currently engaged in a energetic solo. The group all shook snow from their coats and magically their coats hung themselves along the foyer wall. New Year's Decorations still adorned some of the walls, "HAPPY 1979" still shimmered in glass of the liquor cabinet of the club bar.

Helen Gaunt happily pranced toward the stage with Narcissa Black a few steps behind, both women spun wildly along with music laughing loudly throughout. "I love this song!" Helen squealed in delight as she did a pirouette in her black high heels. Lucius, Rabastan and Rodolphus made their way to the bar, nodding toward the women. Hands clasped together, Helen and Narcissa swung their arms rowdily, twirling the other in a quickstepped dance. Watching from a distance at a cocktail table sat Bellatrix, a grin forming on her face at the sight of the two friends lightheartedly dancing and laughing. Helen's eyes would meet hers every few minutes, the younger witch's mischievous expression practically begging the older witch to join them on the floor. Bellatrix declined the offer with a shake her head and a chuckle. Helen only feigned a pout and returned her attention to her dance partner. Bellatrix watched the brunette with admiration through another four songs, until she was shaken from her reverie at the arrival of her husband.

"Remind me why we here again Bella?" Groaned Rodolphus, sitting down with a huff at the table, a mug of frothing ale in hand. A lit cigarette hung precariously from his lower lip; it's ashes fell like a dirty snow onto his lap.

"It's Helen's 22nd birthday and I wanted to surprise her with a trip to a Jazz bar. She loves this music. Look how happy she is Rod."

Rodolphus scoffed. "O'Course she's happy. Regulus has disappeared, anyone who would've been shackled to that _waste_ would be celebrating his disappearance too!" Bellatrix rolled her eyes in disgust and Rodolphus leaned in closer, speaking in a harsh whisper. "I guarantee you the lad was shooting blanks. Couldn't make an heir to please the great patriarchs of the noble house of Black, and ran with his tail between his legs like the dog that he is." He attempted to nip her neck with his teeth, and her neck whipped to the side in disgust. "Speaking of heirs…care to have another go?" His fingers grazed the fabric that encased her breasts.

"Rod…don't do this to me."

"Oh that's right…I forgot, my wife is _**barren**_…killing yet another pureblood line hmm?"

"Go find yourself a plaything…you know it's your favorite thing to do. Why not that blonde coquette by the bar? She's been eyeing you this entire time."

Rodolphus clenched his fists. "Just like how you've been eyeing the Gaunt girl? Makes me sick."

Bellatrix sneered. "Don't be ridiculous!"

"To think the Dark Lord allowed you to join the Death Eaters…you're too weak. Throwing a surprise party for some tart your bastard father took in. Can't even fulfill something as simple as getting pregnant. The Dark Lord wants more purebloods and you can't deliver. Lucky me to have a wife as barren as a desert. You're worthless Bellatrix Black. A ball and chain you are….AHH!" A deluge of vodka and ice struck his face as Bellatrix threw her drink, glass and all, at him. Rodolphus narrowly dodged the thrown highball glass that shattered against the wall. His chair fell to the floor with clamor as he rapidly stood, clawing at his burning eyes that were now filled with alcohol. The raven-haired witch grabbed for her wand, tucked into her leather corset, and aimed it at her husband's head. His reddened eyes met her intense stare. "You _cunt_!" He snarled. "What're you gonna do with that? Last time you tried to crucio me, 'twas barely a tickle. You're pathetic, you don't have it in you!"

Her hands buried themselves in her curls, and she turned away. "I can't deal with this right now. Get out of here Rod. Go after your hussy, leave! It's been made clear as crystal, you don't love me and I don't love you."

"If it weren't for the bloody Dark Lord breathing down our backs, I'd have divorced you ages ago. I could kill my father for thinking this union was a good idea…" In that moment, Bellatrix lost what little semblance of self-restraint she had left. They began a loud shouting match, fingers pointed and wands aimed. Tables and chairs were flipped and thrown, the floor littered with splinters after a spell had be blocked. Bellatrix gave Rodolphus a well-aimed smack to the cheek, whipping the man's head and neck to the side in a violent manner.

Lucius at that moment approached the bickering couple, with Helen and Narcissa in tow. Rodolphus, sensing their presence turned to face the Lucius. "You better have your head checked before you decide to marry one of the Black women. Bloody harpies…the lot of them." CRACK! With that he disapparated.

Helen fell to her knees beside Bellatrix, easing the woman onto her unsteady feet. "Bella…are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

With a soft shove, Bellatrix pushed Helen away from her. "Nothing that I haven't dealt with before."

Lucius, holding an equally concerned Narcissa in his arms spoke next. "Helen, this is a common occurrence between the Lestranges…it is rather fortunate that this club is still intact…we have witnessed but a minor…disagreement."

Helen drew near the dark haired witch once more, reaching out with her hands to tuck the sable mane behind Bellatrix' ears. Her hands still lingered on each of Bellatrix' cheeks, her thumbs gently wiping away a few stray tears falling from eyes trained upon the floor. "I apologize that you had to witness that Helen…on your birthday no less…I must've lacked the foresight to leave Rod at home." Helen gave a small smile and turned toward the future Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, giving a slight nod of the head. Narcissa gave a nod back and looped her arm around Lucius' and guided them away toward the bar.

"Will you take my arm Bella?" Helen asked calmly, tilting the ebony haired witch's chin up with her fingers. Weakly, Bellatrix touched the younger woman's wrist and felt the sensation in her stomach of side-along apparation.

They landed in a dimly lit living room with a gentle thud. Helen pulled her svelte wrist from Bella's fingers and walked off toward what Bella could only assume was a kitchen. Clicks and clangs of plates and cups punctuated the silence of the small apartment and Helen returned to the elder witch's side in a matter of minutes.

"Received some exquisite oolong as a birthday gift at the Ministry this morning. Would you care for a cup?"

"Helen where are we?" Bellatrix looked around the room, there were still a few boxes on the floor, yet to be unpacked.

"Oh we're at my new flat. Just acquired it a few days ago. Thought it was about time I move out of your parents home…before they throw me out that is." The last words barely a whisper.

Bellatrix drew nearer to the younger witch, gathering her hands in her own. They remained in this position for a few minutes; Bella absently played with the colorful bangles on Helen's wrist, and Helen could only watch. "Why would they throw you out?"

"Regulus…I'm sure you've heard…he disappeared last week. Our marriage…it will not happen." An uncomfortable laugh escaped her lips. "In fact I dropped off the half-finished self-portrait that Walburga was planning to gift me at my family vault just this morning." A hand went to her wrist, twisting the skin uncomfortably.

"What! He abandoned you? The swine, why I'll…" A baby soft hand suddenly clamped over her mouth corked her rant. A shh slipped through Helen's teeth.

She kept her hand pressed to Bellatrix' lips and the older witch resisted the urge to kiss the delectable flesh against it. "It is my fault…Bella…I'm pregnant."

It suddenly grew cold as Helen pulled her hand away and turned her head in apparent shame. Bellatrix stood slack-jawed at the revelation, her heart thrummed in her chest.

"Pregnant?"

Before Bellatrix could further form her words Helen spoke once more. "I'm having a girl." she gave a warm smile. "A little girl Bella…I…I plan on leaving the country as soon as my little one is born. Lord Vold—whatever Tom wishes to call himself nowadays—"

"You mean Lord Voldemort…The Dark Lord's name is Tom?"

"Yes…in fact…he is my cousin." A hand flew to Bellatrix' chest, an attempt to quell her now throbbing chest, quaking with ragged breaths. Helen gaped at the black haired witch in surprise. "You wondered if your father acted out of kindness when he took me in? Tom-Lord Voldemort brought me to him, after he came to visit my father and I one day. He saw my father's deplorable treatment of me. He saw the squalor that Gaunt family had fallen into. He obliviated Morfin and took me to your father. I did not hear the conversation they had but once it was over, I had a new home. Little did I know that with that came mine and Regulus' supposed duty to preserve the Black family. Regulus was terrified when I told him the sex of the baby. I haven't heard from him since."

"Oh Helen…" Bellatrix engulfed the young woman in a hug, running her fingers through the velvet soft hair. She smelled of sweet lavender.

"It's alright really. I actually wanted to ask you if…you would be my daughter's godmother…as you are indeed the strongest woman I know." Helen smiled. "If anything were to happen to me…I'd rest in the comfort of knowing you are there to protect my little one." Her hands came to rest upon her abdomen.

Bellatrix nodded and held Helen tighter; her hand resting on the back of Helen's head. "Helen…I would be honored." When they pulled away Helen took each of Bellatrix' hands in her own and guided Bellatrix toward the couch to sit. As they sat, staring deeply into the other's eyes, a teapot, cups and saucers floated into the living room, landing gracefully on the coffee table in front of them. Helen barely moved, still holding tight to Bellatrix' hands as the teapot filled the two cups by itself. Once the objects finished their little dance, Helen let out a deep breath, and she smiled.

"Sorry, levitation still takes a lot out of me I'm afraid."

"Helen…that was incredible! You did that on your own? No wand? No words?"

A light giggle was the response. "I am telekinetic. Surely you knew that already. Both a blessing and a curse, but I am learning much. It's what I'm conducting research on…there's so much controversy over it, and there are so few of us left."

"What does your research entail?"

"Practical Applications of Telekinetic Magic in Invasive Surgeries." Helen recited with a mechanical pronunciation. "A rather convoluted subject I know, but telekinesis is quite useful in treatment of internal maladies. Especially with the more…_human_ aspect of disease. Cancer, tumors, etcetera. My studies also include the physical reactions of the human body when wandless and nonverbal spells are cast. It's quite fascinating!" Helen was beaming, her smile broad on her face, Bellatrix found the girl's enthusiasm endearing. "To normal people…must seem a little boring."

"It sounds incredible!" Bellatrix looked at the brunette with rapt attention. "Could you continue that in America? That is where you wish to go right?"

"Yes…once my little Hermione is born, we both shall start a new life in New York City. I wish to raise her far from this conflict we know that is about reach a boiling point. Though I will admit, I am a bit unsure if my research career can resume there, but I am determined to make it work. And…do some singing too…"

"_Hermione._ A beautiful name. Rooted in mythology no doubt."

"Oh yea. Greek actually…oh and though I know that you are no fan of muggle history but I do so adore "The Winter's Tale"." Silently they basked in each other's presence both women drinking their tea without a word. Helen was first to speak when she finished her cup. "I never properly thanked you for the lovely evening at the Jazz club tonight. It was a most pleasant birthday surprise. Cissy could barely contain her excitement all day."

"But I ruined the night as well." Came Bellatrix' despondent reply. She hung her head, her thick curls covering her face. "If Rodolphus hadn't…and I didn't even…"

Helen leaned in close. "Hush Bella dear. It's alright. Cissy has told me time and again the nature of your relationship with Rodolphus Lestrange. I have seen the way he ogles other women. And I was there on your wedding day…I know...that you do not love him."

Bellatrix shook her head sadly at the realization. "No…it'd be in my best interest to leave him…but father and his tradition…ugh it is one of those times where one is damned if they do, and damned if they don't." Helen absently rubbed Bellatrix' back.

"You can make it up to me you know. For Rod's behavior." Helen said playfully, sitting up ramrod straight. A coy smirk danced across her lips. "There was one thing I so wanted tonight as a gift, and you can still give it to me." The brunette reached a single finger to trace the Bellatrix' collar bone, the feather light caress causing the older witch to shift uncomfortably.

Bellatrix' mouth went completely dry, as the woman's finger ran along the length of her carotid artery, the pulse undoubtedly quickening by the second. "And what might that be?"

"A dance...with you." As she spoke, a record floated across the room toward the old Gramophone, now sitting by a window, and Helen stood up extending a hand. Bellatrix shuddered for a moment before taking it in hers.

"I am not so sure, I'm a bit clumsy….I…" A finger to her lips silenced her.

"Let me lead…"

The sound of pizzicato strings and a tapping snare drum filled the room as an orchestral jazz song began to play. Violins joined the snare like an approaching breeze. Helen placed Bellatrix' left hand upon her waist, and held the right aloft. As the song's tempo finally settled into a gentle rhythm, Helen and Bellatrix began to dance across the floor. At the sound of a piano key Helen began to sing, her voice awash with an ebbing vibrato.

_Fly me to the moon and let me play among the stars._

_Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars._

_In other words, hold my hand…_

Helen, with her shorter stature providing her with the best position, rested her head lightly on Bellatrix' chest as she continued to sing. The lyrics sung in Helen's deep sultry voice put the sable-maned woman into a trance.

_In other words…darling kiss me…_

Her head lifted and Helen's pink lips hovered dangerously close to Bellatrix'; Helen's singing leaving a tender heat against the ruby skin of other woman's lips.

_Fill my heart with song and let me sing forever more._

_You are all I long for, all I worship and adore._

_In other words, please be true._

_In other words…I love you._

With that the meager distance was closed and two lips met in a soft kiss. Any inhibitions were carried away with playful piano music now filling the room. Bellatrix' fingers climbed up the delicate expanse of the brunette's slender body, and nestled themselves in the strands of shining auburn hair. She gently angled Helen's head to deepen their kiss, the sensation completely intoxicating. Never had the eldest Black sister felt so at peace, never had she felt so wanted. The kiss ended as the final notes of the song faded into quiet. The two women blushed, both visibly tongue-tied.

Helen leaned forward, softly pressing her head against Bellatrix' creamy neck. "In other words…" She spoke into the supple skin. "I've fallen for you…Bellatrix…Black."

* * *

"Bella darling I don't think we'll be needing all of those blankets for the baby!". Helen giggled, stuffing some clothes into a box, all while wordlessly levitating several other items into their own boxes. "Little Hermione will be fine with just a sheet and comforter."

"But what if that is not enough to keep her warm? What then? What if she catches a cold!".

"You are being quite ridiculous Bellatrix Black! The last thing Hermione would want is an overbearing mother. You don't want to be like Auntie Walburga do you? Oh the horror stories Reg had told me." Helen strode over to the older witch and placed a small kiss on her ruby lips. Her pregnant belly stretched out against the fabric of her dress, and Bellatrix knelt down to place a kiss on the peak of the mound. Helen smiled warmly at the sight, and ran a few fingers through Bellatrix' raven curls as the older witch rested her cheek on the swell of Helen's stomach.

"Little one has been restless lately." Bellatrix cooed into the fabric of Helen's dress. "She is kicking a lot dear!" Bellatrix smiled warmly, her heart swelling with happiness in her chest.

Helen helped the dark haired witch her feet. "That's because she is eager to meet you love." Helen arched her back to stretch like a cat, her arms held high above her head, her spine cracking in two places. "I cannot believe this...a dream nearly come true." The words were intermixed with a contented sigh. Bellatrix kissed the soft skin of Helen's nape.

"Nearly?" Bellatrix playfully probed with a smirk as she took the brunette into her embrace and started a slow waltz. Instinctively, Helen rested her head upon Bellatrix' shoulder.

"Oh yes...moving to New York City...the woman I have fallen madly in love with by my side...and within a matter of days, our little one will finally be here. All that's missing is the white picket fence."

"Such wonderful imagery...until the dreadful picket fence. I wouldn't be caught dead with something so cliché as a white picket fence outside of my home. I'd rather have stone walls, with statues of lions...or perhaps a gargoyle or two."

"Oh yes I'm certain that is exactly what little Hermione needs to see each and every morning she awakes. The macabre representations of evil and malice. Man eating monsters." Helen rapped the tip of Bellatrix' nose and smiled. "Why not compromise my love, we have a white picket fence complete with a gargoyle. But it must be dressed nicely."

"Sometimes I wonder if I've gone completely mad...to run away with someone as nutty as you."

"Ahh but your life would be oh so boring without me in it." Helen returned to finish her own packing in her bedroom.

"Have you decided where you'd like to have the baby dearest?" Bellatrix called out. "I can contact St. Mungo's straightaway and have them prepare a room for you."

"That won't be necessary. I'd like to use a muggle hospital. Hermione will be born in the way nature intended. Magic is much too chaotic."

Bellatrix rushed to Helen's side taking both hands into her own. "Are you sure you want to put the fate of…_our_…baby into the hands of _a muggle_?" Her tone was guarded, charcoal eyes wide with concern.

Helen only nodded. "Yes love...ohh..." The brunette stumbled toward the couch and collapsed upon it. "Contractions...ohhh..."

On cue Bellatrix began to count in her head, mentally clocking the time between the spasms now wracking the pregnant woman's body. "They are close dear...perhaps we should..."

Helen let forth a guttural shriek as her hands flew to her stomach and she curled into a fetal position. A wet spot was beginning to grow by her legs. Her water broke.

"I think...things...are...moving...ahead...of...schedule...". Helen grunted through obvious pain.

"Little Hermione must be impatient."

"A trait...of...your...side...of...the...family...no doubt...ugh." The brunette's slender body writhed upon the cushions, her arms tightly encasing her belly. "Take...my arm...darling...I...know which...hospital...I'd like to...have the baby...in." She grunted and sweat beaded at the top of her forehead. Try as she might to conceal what she was feeling, Bellatrix could tell that Helen was under an intense amount of pain. The woman fought to stay conscious.

"Are you mad? Apparating while you are in labor? Don't be so daft!" Bellatrix hissed. Helen wailed as her body was struck by another violent wave of contractions. Bellatrix started to hyperventilate and she reached for her lover's arm with great trepidation, uncertain of where they were headed.

With a gentle thud they arrived outside a muggle hospital among some hedges. Helen could barely stand and Bellatrix struggled to keep the pregnant woman up on her feet. An orderly out on his cigarette break noticed the two women emerging from the brush, and rushed to their sides. "We have active labor!". He screamed.

Minutes later a team of nurses arrived with a stretcher, and they skillfully lifted the brunette on top of it. They burst through the double doors of the Hospital, rushing toward the maternity ward. Bellatrix ran along side, clinging tightly to Helen's limp hand. The screams coming from her throat caused Bellatrix' heart to seize in her chest. "Stay strong love...it'll all be over soon...just think, in a matter of hours our family will be complete...we'll be on our way to New York City." They rounded a corner before approaching a set of double doors. An orderly scanned a clipboard before giving a nod to the team leading the stretcher. The doors swung open and they began to push Helen through, Bellatrix followed a few steps behind before an outstretched hand had halted her.

"Relation to this woman?" He asked in a gruff smokers voice.

"She's my significant other. She's about to have our child. Let me through!" Bellatrix tried to move past the large man but he pushed her back.

He recited the words with perfunctory meticulousness. "I am sorry Miss but the state does not recognize same gender relationships. Only legal spouses and next of kin are allowed into the wards. If you'll kindly take a seat in the lobby we will inform you when-". Bellatrix stomped her foot angrily, and leaned in close to the mans face.

"Let me in."

He only responded with the same words, and they visibly stung the older witch. They argued for nearly ten minutes before she reached for her wand and was horrified to realize that she had left it back at the apartment. Cursing herself inwardly, the tears that formed in her eyes threatened to belie the rage she was desperately to swallow down. Movement behind the thick panes glass of the windows caught her eyes, there in the middle of the hallway now stood Lord Voldemort, his handsome features scarcely concealed by his hood. His eyes locked with hers, and she pleaded, begged for him to allow her entry. He turned and made his way down the hall, in the same direction that the gurney took.

Defeated, Bellatrix walked to the lobby, dragging her feet across the tiled floor. The sterile atmosphere of the muggle hospital did nothing to help her mood. Within ten minutes she had nodded off, slumped against a chair.

"Miss...Miss? Are you awake?" Bleary-eyed, Bellatrix stirred awake, the nurse gently tapping her shoulder. "Miss you arrived here with a Miss...Helen Gaunt?"

Snapping awake Bellatrix stood and nodded her head furiously. "Yes! Is she alright? Can I see her? Tell me, how does she fare? How is the baby?" Her hands came to grip the fabric of the nurse's scrubs.

The young nurse swallowed hard, her hands beginning to quake and she nearly dropped her clipboard. "I am afraid Miss Gaunt…she didn't make it. A complication."

The words were a stab wound to the heart. A rusted knife wrenched deep within the fibers.

"And the baby...stillborn." The knife was suddenly twisted, tearing the muscle fibers into shreds, blood pouring out into her chest cavity. Drowning her in her own vitality. Bellatrix wanted to scream, cry…die. Instead she tore away from the frightened nurse, and pushed through the double doors, sprinting toward the one room in the ward that was left ajar. People gave chase, but she did not stop, her legs burning with each stride she took. Two orderlies tried to subdue her, but she was faster, brandishing her knife. "Back away! I mean it! Come any closer and I'll gut you like a fish!" She entered the delivery room and slammed the door shut behind her.

The room had one other occupant, who stood still as stone in a floor length black cloak. Lord Voldemort stood over Helen's bed, and turned to face Bellatrix. His hood was completely drawn, his face concealed within shadows. "Shame...two souls lost...their blood dripping from between the fingers of incapable _muggle_ hands." Before she could speak, he disapparated with a deafening CRACK!

Turning to face the bed, she spied Helen's now comatose body, sprawled out, legs still in the stirrups, her blood steadily dripping to floor. The sterile lighting of the room reflected in the crimson puddle. Helen's porcelain skin, once supple and slightly tanned was now fading to a sickening pallor. Bellatrix let out a wail at the sight; the sobs nearly putting her body into an epileptic fit. Crashing to her knees beside the dead woman, Bellatrix touched one of the dangling hands, and instantly recoiled. It was cold as ice. Quivering lips pressed themselves against the cold flesh, and as they pulled away, a silvery thread of saliva lingered; a final connection that was soon severed by the air.

"They couldn't save you...they couldn't save the baby...muggles...all of their science and quackery...father was right, right all along...they are a blight, a curse...my love...I miss you so much...my darling Helen...I love you..."

And for the first and last time in her 28 years of life...Bellatrix openly sobbed.

* * *

Hermione whipped her head free of the pensieve, her breath coming in sobs. Pain gripped at her as her mind reeled from the images it had been exposed to. It left her feeling utterly exhausted. Fleur, whom had been quietly sitting across the room, closed the distance to her lover in a few short strides, arriving in just the nick of time as Hermione's knees buckled and she slunk to the floor.

"They loved each other…" The words were nearly lost in a sharp inhalation. "Helen and Bella…they were in love…so madly in love with one another..." Hermione stumbled blindly across the office until slumping into the Headmistress' chair and placing her tearstained face into her palms. "They had grand plans to start a new life together. I was part of those plans! And the doctors...they couldn't save her."

"I know."

Hermione's heart lurched with anger. "What do you mean _'you know'_?" She snapped. "Only I was in the pensieve!"

"Bella told me 'zee story 'erself ma belle, and made me promise 'zat you saw 'zese memories for yourself. Bella was afraid 'zat I would not trust 'er…so when we she took me aside to chat 'zat first night 'een 'zee manor, she told me of 'er love for 'elen, and for you. And of 'ow 'zee two of us…'ees a constant reminder of what she and 'elen once shared. She sees 'erself and 'elen...'een you and I..." Fleur reached down and helped the younger witch to her feet and placed a kiss on the girl's lips. "Come...let us go back to 'zee common room for 'zee night...being submerged 'een a pensieve can be exhausting…you can tell me more about what you saw." Fleur turned to guide Hermione away but the Gryffindor remained glued to the spot.

"Gringott's." She deadpanned, catching the blonde off guard.

"Gringott's? 'Ermione what are you talking about?"

"Helen's portrait. It's in a vault, if I'm going to get any answers, it's in there." Deathly serious, Hermione grasped both of Fleur's shoulders, holding the Frenchwoman rigidly in front of her. "I must get into that vault."

"Je suis desolee 'Ermione, but I do not recall a Gaunt family vault. And even 'eef I did, I would no longer be allowed access to 'eet…'Owever…Bill…'e might." Hermione did not release her grip, Fleur playfully swatted the witch's nose. "And yes I will talk to 'im for you 'Ermione…for now just let 'zis go…we 'ave precious 'ours left before I must return to Narcissa and 'zee manor…can we forget for a moment 'zis war and 'zis mystery…and just…be?"

The brunette's shoulders slackened and she heaved a sigh. "You…You're right Fleur…now isn't the time for this…I'm sorry love." Hands clasped together they thanked the Headmistress for allowing them time with the pensieve and began their trek back to the Gryffindor tower.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** Lyrics to "How High the Moon" and "Fly me to the Moon" are not mine.

**A/N:** So ends Part II. You'll probably notice the obvious parallels between the two main couples in this fic. Totally part of the master plan. Mwhaha. As for Part III…the shit finally hits the fan.

**A/N 2:** "How High the Moon" and "Fly Me to the Moon" are both very famous Jazz standards. They are wonderful songs and Ella Fitzgerald and Julie London sang the two versions I was channeling in this story respectively. I highly recommend listening to their versions of these songs. The Julie London version of "Fly Me to the Moon" has been added to the fictrack, and it's nothing short of wonderful.


	18. The Greatest Light is the Greatest Shade

**PART III: ****Qui me alit me extinguit.**

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_Even as the waxe dothe feede, and quenche the flame,_

_So, love gives life; and love, dispaire doth give:_

_The godlie love, doth lovers croune with fame:_

_The wicked love, in shame dothe make them live._

_Then leave to love, or love as reason will,_

_For, lovers lewde doe vainlie languishe still._

**-Geoffery Whitney, _Choice of Emblemes,_ 183a**

* * *

"Oy! 'Mione!"

Bill Weasley held his arms wide, beckoning the younger witch into a crushing hug and he kissed her on the top of her head. The winter wind tugged at her scarf as she greeted her friend outside of the grand entrance to Gringott's Bank. It had been a few months since Hermione had seen him last, and he sported a few more scars on his chiseled face, but ever present was the Weasley fire red hair and now a well trimmed beard. He looked like a rock star, and she always found him to be the most handsome of the entire Weasley clan. Her smile was broad as she regarded him with warmth. "How fare you?" he asked in a jovial tone before becoming increasingly more sobered. "Is everything going alright for Fleur?"

The young witch gave a slight nod. "Yes...My aunt has been kind enough to offer food and shelter to Fleur for the time being. Her being part-Veela isn't earning her many friends as of late."

Hermione was careful not to betray her guile as she wove her carefully rehearsed story. It nagged at her, being so deceptive toward Fleur's ex-husband, but she quickly reminded herself what was at stake.

Fleur had owled Bill the night before she departed Hogwarts for the Malfoy Manor, explaining Hermione's wishes to access a particular vault, and Bill, ever thankful for the young witch's help with his injuries from the months prior, spared nothing in offering any aid. Hermione wished for Fleur to come with her to the bank, but Narcissa forbade the Frenchwoman to leave the manor a second time.

And much to Hermione's frustration, Bellatrix was still tightlipped over any and all questions pertaining to the three memories gifted to her for Christmas. The dark witch would quickly sever any conversation that even grazed the topic of Helen, simply stating that the memories were all Hermione needed to see.

Nothing more.

She had so many questions. What Hermione had found most disturbing was the Dark Lord's presence at her mother's bedside. True he was technically Helen's only next of kin, but something just seemed off about him being in the hospital that day.

Upon attempting to probe the dark witch further, Narcissa scolded the young brunette telling her to leave well enough alone, and that Bellatrix would speak on the subject when she was ready to.

Now Hermione was left to her own devices in locating her mother's portrait. And her answers.

Bill grinned, shoving his hands into the pockets of his black leather jacket. "That's good to hear. Believe me she'd be more than welcome back at my place but Mum still won't lift that ruddy jinx. Kara and I have tried everything to lift it. Still haven't imperioused her yet, though that might be the next step..."

Hermione chuckled as he held open the bronze doors of the bank. She shook snow from her coat and scarf as bill lowered his own hood and removed his gloves. "How is Kara doing anyway? She's absolutely lovely Bill."

"Kara? Down right wonderful. No doubt Fleur has told you I intend to propose. Haven't quite found the right time to do it yet I'm afraid. I want everything to be perfect." He shrugged.

They now stood in the grand lobby of Gringott's, the bank a flurry of activity. Goblins flitted about with gravity defying stacks of forms and papers. Carefully they meandered through the crowded building and made their way toward the wing that contained the labyrinth of vaults. Bill merely showed his badge at the security checkpoint and the two friends were allowed entry with no hassle. This seemed odd to the brown haired witch, as she had heard many stories about how rigid the goblins could be with their security measures. She decided not to press the issue and stayed close to Bill and diverted her eyes from the beady ones of the goblins that seemed omnipresent. They flanked every doorway and passage they passed.

They walked side-by-side down the narrow hallway toward the trams. "Oh Bill you needn't worry so much, go with what your heart tells you. Intuition is nature's way of pushing us to make our dreams reality Bill."

"But what if she says no? What'll I do then? I've been working on this beard now for weeks." He playfully ran his fingers over the short strip of facial hair.

"Please as if any girl would be so daft to decline a marriage proposal from a guy like you."

Bill raised one of his fire red eyebrows. "In that case, 'Mione, will you marry me?". The question stopped the brown haired witch dead in her tracks.

"Uh...well, Fleur..." She began to stutter, running a hand nervously up and down her forearm.

"Always knew you to be daft 'Mione!" His laughter rang through the hall and try as she might, Hermione couldn't help but snicker as well. "I kid. I kid. You know that 'Mione. Fleur is a very lucky woman. She told me about what you've done for her, saved her from a life of poverty. Never heard so much happiness from the girl's lips for as long as I've known her. She is head over heels for you!" Hermione blushed at the words. "And I know full well that my little brother and sister have probably been giving you both grief, and it's mostly my fault given my unique condition...last time we were all home, I heard about your row with Pansy. Damn, Fleur's a lucky girl, I wonder if Kara would kick someone's ass to defend my honor."

Hermione grinned slightly, patting the man on the back reassuringly. "Bill it's quite alright, really. Yours and Kara's friendship is more than enough for Fleur and I...only I hope that I truly make her as happy as you claim she is..."

"Times are tough 'Mione, and Fleur needs you. She can be fragile, and this is certainly one of those moments. I know you've done much to help her, and I want to help you both. Keep your chin up 'Mione. Things will get better...for both of you." He stopped and enveloped Hermione in a tender hug. "Let's keep going. We have a purpose here today, and let's see to it that it gets fulfilled shall we?"

"Fleur had written of the particular vault you wished to access." Bill said as they approached the tram that traversed through the seemingly endless vaults. "And I consulted the goblins about it and there's a bit of a problem." He let Hermione sit first before joining her at her side. The goblin sitting at the tram's controls barely regarded the two passengers before shutting the doors of the tram with a snap of his fingers.

With a jerk, the tram lurched away from the station, starting it's descent into deep under chambers of the bank. The myriad of vaults they passed grew increasingly more archaic and decrepit the deeper they went, the tracks twisting and turning unexpectedly at every turn. The tram gained more and more speed by the second.

Hermione absently played with the fringes of her scarf. "A problem?"

"For one, the vault has been untouched for nearly two decades. Most of the vaults here are passed from generation to generation and will have some semblance of account activity. Usually it's the eager heir who will come to open it expecting vast riches and wealth. About ninety nine percent of the time they are left completely disappointed that it contains noting of value. Then the process starts anew as it is passed to the next heir and so on. Some of our oldest vaults belonged to families that are now extinct, and have not been opened in years, thereby earning it the classification of abandoned. Now under normal policy an abandoned vault is to become ministry property after twenty years or so of inactivity, or if it is purchased at a public auction. This is standard protocol. But this vault you wish to see, is very, very old. So old that it possesses a one of a kind lock that makes it an exception to the rule."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "What sort of lock?"

"One we've never seen before. And can't get open. Must be why the goblins don't seem to care that you're down here. It just doesn't open." The air was growing more damp and foul by the second. Hermione shivered as the temperature also became more frigid, and she instinctively wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck. They must've been miles and miles underground she surmised. Many of the vaults within this chamber were large and adorned with the lavish crests of some of the oldest English wizarding families. Some had actual dragons chained to posts in front of their doors, snapping and snarling at the arrival of the tram. The tram rolled to a stop in front of a particularly ominous looking vault door with an odd knob beset in it's center. It looked hardly different from the knob of a French style door, but on it's edge a small chalice, no larger than a shot glass, was welded on to it. The goblin drove away once they exited the tramcar.

Bill and Hermione strode over toward the hulking door, and he placed a gloved hand on the chalice. "_This _is the problem. The lock is the only one of its kind. This cup you see is the key to opening this door, from what the goblins say the family that owned this vault were particularly notorious for their purity fanaticism. By that logic this vessel must be filled..."

"With blood." Hermione completed, running a fingertip around the rusted rim of the dusty cup. Etched into it were the words_: jus_ _sanguinis_.

"Not to be rude but I doubt your blood will do it. Seeing as this family, the..." he peered upward at the chiseled plaque on the top of the door "Gaunt family...were apparently obsessed with being pureblooded."

Hermione ignored Bill's words and reached into her hair, which was done up in a bun, and pulled a single bobby pin from it. Transfiguring it into a hunting knife with a quick flick of her wand, Hermione rolled up the sleeve of her coat and held her wrist directly above the cups open mouth. Her other hand brought the razor sharp edge of the knife to the thin skin of her wrist. She swallowed a nagging lump in her throat and steadied her breathing for what she was about to do.

"'Mione, what in the blazes do you think you're doing!" Bill shouted, lunging for the knife, but he was too late. With one swift slice and a loud hiss, Hermione had cut into the delicate veins beneath and watched as the crimson blood ran down like a torrent into the chalice. Clenching and unclenching her fist, and grasping tightly to her forearm, she milked the fluid from her body. Instantly upon contact with her blood the chalice began to pull the vault handle downward. For an agonizing five minutes hermione willingly bled into the cup, the gears of the elaborate lock turning one by one with each drop until the door finally began to open. Wrenching her numb appendage away from the knob she quickly willed the cut to heal. The pins and needles sensation lingered however, as did her lightheadedness. Bill stood in awe and confusion.

"The lock...you got it open...that must mean...".

Hermione gave a gesture of affirmation. "Jus Sanguinis. Right of Blood. This is my true blood Bill. This is my real family. This is their vault."

"What...how...". Bill was flabbergasted. "Since when…all this time?" He stammered.

The door slowly groaned open and a gush of fetid air blew forth. Hermione choked down impending vomit at the stale smell and held her wand up with a trembling arm.

"Lumos." The tip of her wand burst alight.

The vault was not very large; no more than ten by twenty feet. The air was stale and dry. Much to Hermione's dismay as she scanned the walls with her light, there was nothing but empty pouches, a few pieces of cracked china and some moth-eaten robes. Whatever riches were once held here were picked clean long ago.

"Was there anything you hoped to find?"

"Yes..." The words trailed as Hermione instantly recognized a shadow cast by her light along the far wall. It's shape was unmistakable; Helen's old gramophone.

The brunette crept forward and kneeling down, she reached a trembling hand for the old musical artifact, touching the ornate rim of it's large hornlike speaker. It was exactly as she had remembered it after seeing it figure so prominently in Bellatrix' memories. Leaning against it was a box containing several dusty records, and Hermione's heart seized in her chest as she saw a simple handwritten tag attached to it that read "_For Hermione_" in flowing cursive. It was not Bellatrix' handwriting. She thumbed the tag idly as tears welled in her eyes. It was going to be a gift.

In that moment Hermione's mind decided to wander, picturing her far younger self nestled in the arms of Helen Gaunt, her soothing voice singing a playful song. She even imagined Bellatrix to her mother's side, smiling affectionately. Her visions then faded to a vast meadow of wildflowers on a warm spring day, as a small wedding party watched Fleur and Hermione exchange their wedding vows. Helen was sitting in the front row, dabbing at her eyes with a satin handkerchief.

The crunch of Bills boots as he moved through debris brought her back to the present.

_Reducio_...The gramophone and the box both shrunk to the size of dollhouse furniture, and she delicately placed both of the precious objects in her purse before Bill could see what she was doing. Collecting herself she continued to rummage through the boxes and robes that littered the floor. There was nothing to be found. For nearly a half an hour she rooted through the remnants of long forgotten memories. Her searching brought her to the far right corner of the vault until she finally found what she sought. Buried amongst the detritus was her prize, a rolled up piece of canvas. She fished it out from the junk and with quick footsteps, brought it back out to the vault hallway, clutching it to her chest.

"I think this is it Bill...my mother's portrait!"

"Your mother?" Bill asked reemerging from the vault door.

Hermione nodded "Yes. Helen Clytemnestra Gaunt. She...died giving birth to me...and shortly after I was adopted by the Grangers." The eldest Weasley gaped at the revelation. "It's a long story…but that's why I'm able to open this vault. And why I possess the skills that I do. All of this is a mystery I've been slowly unraveling Bill. Each time I learn something of significance, fifty more questions pop up in it's place. And I still haven't the slightest notion of who I am, and what I should become. This portrait will be the closest that I'll get to meeting my mother." Her arms began to tremble as she placed the canvas gently down on the ground, ready to open it. Bill halted her.

"I wouldn't unfurl it here 'Mione. I doubt the dank depths of Gringott's caverns is a fitting atmosphere for a family reunion. There must be a frame in there." His voice trailed as he entered the vault and began to rummage through the junk. A few minutes passed and he returned with a shrunken frame and handed it to the brunette. "Might want to clean it first but I'm pretty sure this is the one. The placard says Helen on it." Hermione found herself smiling at the sound of her mother's name.

"That's her. Oh but I just want to take a peek at it, if you don't mind helping me unfurl it a bit...maybe she won't see us."

Bill gave a laugh at Hermione's childlike enthusiasm. "It would be my pleasure 'Mione!" Bill held on to the free end of the canvas and with great care Hermione unraveled the painting. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the face of her mother slowly reveal itself; she had light make up on, her auburn hair in elaborate ringlets tied into a half-up half-down style, with a golden Grecian tiara shaped like woven olive branches perched on the crown of her head. Helen wore a silken off white toga, with a pearl necklace resting around the gentle slope of her neck.

"Look at her Bill...she's dressed like Helen of Troy...she looks...stunning.". Hermione whispered while reaching with her free hand to trace the painted contours of her mother's face.

"Wow...your mother was quite the looker!" Bill remarked before cocking his head to the side. "And...she's apparently...sleeping."

"Sleeping!" With a closer look, Hermione could see Helen was indeed slumbering, her head tilted slightly forward, eyes gently shut. Her chest rose and fell in a subtle rhythm. "But we just freed her from this dreadful vault...she should be awake!"

"Best not wake her here eh 'Mione? Who knows how long she's been down here." They rolled up the canvas and with a quick reduction spell the painting, along with it's frame were placed in her bag. Bill gave Hermione a hearty pat on the back. "Let's get out of here. Fancy some dinner before you return to your Hogsmeade group 'Mione? Fill me in on this mysterious family history I know nothing about." Bill shot her a knowing smile. "C'mon...it'll be on me."

"That would be lovely Bill."

* * *

The Helen in the portrait continued to sleep soundly, though she was now propped up against the wall in Hermione's dorm room in the Gryffindor tower. Hermione tried nearly everything: talking, screaming, singing, playing jazz on the gramophone...but nothing would cause the sleeping woman to even stir. None of it made any sense and what was worse, Bellatrix wanted nothing to do with it. It hurt, finally having Helen so close, but so completely unresponsive at the same time. Hermione well knew that contained within that frame was the wealth of answers shed been longing to discover for so long. And of course the young soul of her mother whom she was positively dying to get to know.

Her roommates were unsettled by the large portrait of an unknown woman unceremoniously on display in their room. Lavender had taken to covering it with a bed sheet whenever Hermione was out, the gesture, the young witch found to be, like a slap in the face.

One night while Hermione struggled to fall asleep she could hear the voices of Lavender and Ginny in the midst of a heated conversation as they entered the quiet dorm room. They spoke in harsh whispers but it was loud enough for Hermione to hear every word.

"Why does she insist on having that bloody painting in here? First it's her stealing your brothers wife, then her weird behavior; cutting class and disappearing all the time, beating the snot out of Pansy Parkinson-"

Ginny giggled. "Which was bloody brilliant. Seeing McGonagall stun Hermione was classic!"

Lavender continued. "Then she jumps back up to the top of our bloody class again. And still she disappears all of the time. The professors, they don't seem to care! Where the hell do you suppose she got her ruddy paws on this painting? Who is that woman?"

"I dunno. Her lesbian fantasy?"

Hermione's hands were now white knuckled gripping the comforter tightly around her body. She was starting to sweat, her body hot with anger.

"Kinda creepy how it's always sleeping don't you think?" Lavender thought audibly. Her voice was louder, she must've been standing directly in front of the portrait. Hermione tensed underneath the comforter.

Ginny only laughed. "Well I would be too if I was in the presence of bookish Hermione Granger all of the time!" The two girls snorted with laughter and quickly hushed themselves fearing that they were being too loud. Their voices became slightly more distant as they each approached their respective wardrobes to change.

"Did you see the other pictures she's got by her bed?"

"Oh yeah. Not sure who the two women are but she's got one of Phlegm from the tournament. From the bloody Yule ball". Ginny remarked with a snide tone. "Every male, and I suppose Hermione too, was under her Veela spell that year. Hermione should get herself tested."

Lavender stopped her rummaging for a moment, "You don't think they've...done it?"

"Who knows, all I know is from what the Prophet wrote that day…" Ginny began and Lavender said nothing in response. "You know, that article they wrote about Veelas. Apparently they crave sex and they need to have it often to even survive!"

"But wouldn't that mean that your brother Bill..."

"Gross Lav! I don't want to think about that! Only thing worse is imagining Hermione and Fleur. Eww! Now I'm gonna have loads of trouble getting to sleep!"

It took every ounce of willpower left in Hermione not to cast the cruciatus curse on Ginny then and there. Perhaps, she mused wickedly, she'd get that chance in due time.

* * *

London coffee shops on a sleepy Saturday afternoon were surprisingly bustling. Having adroitly escaped her Hogsmeade group yet again, Hermione sat in the far corner of the café, mug of steaming black coffee in one hand, and her attention fixed upon the previous day's Telegraph. Several searing op-ed pieces ranted on and on about the sumptuous spectacle that was to be the Queen's Diamond Jubilee later that year. The money to be spent on the whole affair, they wrote, could be better used to help the people. Is this what the country needs? A party? The economy was weakening; hard working people losing their jobs while the crown continues to live in opulence despite rampant rumors of bankruptcy. The value of pounds sterling was falling to it's weakest ever against the American dollar. Military recruitment is down. And the monarch just wants to throw a party, and parliament seems to have no problem with this. The royalists bit back with letters of their own; the monarch would be bringing the people together, the country needs a day of unity and identity. A day to energize the British people. The whole debate upon the black and white pages brought a chuckle to Hermione's lips. The muggles had plenty upon their own plates as well.

Voldemort, it seems, had done his homework.

The Jubilee was a time bomb; it just had to be set.

The date on the paper was 25 January 1999. The New Year came and went with little spectacle, however for the first time in her 19 years of existence, Hermione was finally gifted a kiss as the clock struck midnight. It was magical. The love she shared with Fleur had weathered a rather tumultuous 1998, and showed no signs of weakening. They kissed goodbye while under the watchful eye of Professor McGonagall, out on the courtyard. Hermione whispered into Fleur's ears words of promise and adoration. Six more months, she said, until she was free of the confines of Hogwarts castle for good. Six more months, and they would finally be ready to begin a new chapter of their lives. The great walls of Hogwarts would no longer stand between them, and it would finally be them against the world.

The Dark Lord's words however permeated her thoughts. She had a mission that she needed to fulfill. Once her task was complete, she would walk away. Once the phylacteries were reduced to shards, she would take the hand of the woman she loved, and head off into the proverbial sunset. The world could crumble under the iron fist of war, but as long as they had one another, nothing could pull them apart.

The bitter burn of the black coffee as it slipped down her esophagus brought with it the bite of reality. She needed to focus on her mission. Her training.

Her eyes scanned the busy coffee shop; the many tables were dotted with businessmen and women chewing on scones and washing it down with various species of coffee-like beverages. None of which Hermione particularly cared for, though she did enjoy a nice cappuccino now and again. She held up the paper to conceal her face, as she began her careful descent into a trance-like state. Eyes closed, heart scarcely beating, the only sounds she could now hear, was her metronomic inhale and exhale.

_Petrificus totalus._

CRASH! One of the baristas, carrying a tray of muffins and scones, collapsed to the floor with a clatter. Everyone stopped what they were doing at the sound, and several of the patrons rushed to the young man's side.

_Petrificus totalus. _

_Petrificus totalus. _

Two more people fell to the ground, and the others slowly backed away, as if the three bodies upon the floor were contagious. Hermione scanned the sports section, soon becoming engrossed in an article about Manchester United.

_Colloportus._

Instantly the doors to the café locked themselves tightly on their own accord. Her guinea pigs were effectively trapped in their cage. The World section had several excellent op-ed pieces about the upcoming American presidential elections. If she were American, she pondered, she wasn't sure which candidate she'd be inclined to vote for.

_Reducto. Stupefy. Petrificus Totalus. Engorgio. Reducio. Avifors. _

The spells fired forth like a machine gun with its trigger taped down and the small café was plunged into utter mayhem; objects and birds whizzing about, coffee cups growing to ten times their normal size, fire erupting out of sinks and basins. People screamed and clawed at the doors in desperation, but Hermione would not unlock them. In fact she simply took another sip of coffee and began to work on the daily sudoku puzzle.

A rather large man, brandishing a stool from the bar, barreled toward the front door, looking to smash it open.

_Rictumsempra. _

He collided with the glass and crumpled into a fit of giggles as invisible fingers tickled him unrelentingly. Hermione let the insanity continue for ten agonizing minutes, not out of mercy, but because today's sudoku puzzle she found to be particularly vexing.

One by one she petrified each of the patrons

She stood once there was not one person left standing in the café. Bodies were strewn across the littered floor like a child's forgotten toys after playtime. Pulling out her wand, she carefully undid all of the madness; repairing mugs, cleaning the floors, and returning the tables to their upright positions. She was careful to obliviate all of the patrons as well; wiping their minds clear.

"Alohomora" she aimed the bolt at the door and gently pushed it open. As she crossed the threshold to the cold London streets she whispered, "Finite Incantatem."

Instantly everyone stood up, a bit unsure of how they got on the floor in the first place, but they continued their day as if nothing had ever happened.

The staccato clip clop of her boots on the cobblestone streets ticked in rhythm with her rapidly beating heart. She was nearly ready, though she had one more activity planned for this weekend. Bellatrix, whom she hadn't seen in weeks, was going to take her on her first raid. And upon learning where the raid was to take place, Hermione suddenly found herself feeling very, very excited.

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**A/N:** Thank you muchly to **Wirenfeldt Jr.** and** sexyoutlaw** for helping to clear up my confusion over the locking spell. You guys rock!

**A/N 2:** Remember this is an **AU** fic. In real life, I understand that the Queen has not had her Diamond jubilee yet. The political pieces Hermione reads in this chapter are simply for dramatic effect and in no way reflect any of my political leanings. Just in case anyone finds a problem with it.


	19. Shadowplay

It's almost Christmas! So let's celebrate with some wanton violence eh? :) I've been having the crappiest week ever at work, and lets just say writing this chapter was cathartic to say the least.

Warning, not for the squeamish!

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"Let's get going. I've got places to be. People to do!" Rodolphus was pacing angrily in front of the marble fireplace, smoke puffing from his cigarette in a steam engine fashion. Bellatrix, leaning against the mantelpiece, rolled her eyes at the sight, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. The Death Eaters had convened in the Manor, and were quickly donning robes and masks. Rodolphus whined loudly once more, turning to his wife with anger. "Bellatrix! What's the bloody holdup?"

"Still your tongue you bastard! Don't make me saw it out! We are waiting for Hermione." She gestured toward the front of the great room, where the brunette was busy putting on her robe. Fleur was helping her.

Rodolphus gave a look of pure disgust. "The brat? What the hell is she doing coming with us tonight? We're trying to take out Moody tonight. The bloated codfish fights like a pit bull and you're bringing the brat?" He took a harsh drag of his cigarette and promptly hacked up a gob of spit onto the floor. A few wet coughs followed.

Bellatrix rushed toward Rodolphus and pressed the tip of her jagged wand against his jugular. She had it pressed so hard into his skin, with each breath he drew the wand's tip would lodge itself between the fibrous muscles and tendons of his neck. The cigarette quivered between his lips. "We don't have a choice!" she hissed. "The Dark Lord insisted she be immersed in a real combat situation before we attack the Jubilee."

"How is the Dark Lord so certain she won't sell us out to the Order once we arrive?"

A flame flicked out from the tip of her wand, scalding the hairs of his neck and with a lightning quick smack of her palm, she shoved the lit cigarette down her husband's throat. "You dare besmirch Him with such a question!" He started choking immediately, grabbing at his throat with his hands. Ash sputtered from his mouth as he tried to get anyone's attention.

His face was beginning to turn blue before Bellatrix begrudgingly dislodged the offending object from his windpipe with a flick of her warped wand. "Anapneo." The incantation was barely a sigh.

"Bloody bitch!" He shoved her away and walked over toward the couch and sat with a huff. Bellatrix turned to look toward Hermione and Fleur.

"'Ermy...are you certain 'zis 'ees what you wish to do? Narcissa 'as told me 'ow dangerous 'zees raids are.". The Frenchwoman gripped Hermione's shoulders tightly, holding her at arms length. "People are going to get 'urt tonight...aren't 'zey?" Her tone was deathly serious. Hermione could only nod. "'Zey are going with intent to kill aren't 'zey?" Another nod. "'Ermione...please...don't do 'zis...tell 'zem no."

A few tears sliding down the soft slope of her cheeks accompanied Hermione's weak response. "I don't think I can. They will kill me...besides...I'm in this until the phylacteries are destroyed. You have been kept in bondage far too long...I am fighting for _our_ freedom too my love...please believe me."

Fleur swallowed a nagging lump in her throat before leaning her head against her lover's chest and her slender arms came to rest around Hermione's waist. "'Eef 'zere 'ees any killing to be 'ad tonight...promise me 'eet won't involve you...". Fleur shuddered in Hermione's embrace. "I love you..." Her words frail.

Hermione rested her forehead against the blonde's, savoring the fleeting contact with the pillow soft skin. She sucked in a deep breath through her nose, taking in Fleur's scent. "I promise." Their lips met in a soft kiss, both women caring nothing of the group of people surrounding them. After they pulled apart, Fleur reached behind her and produced an ornate mask of fashioned silver. It had been polished to the point where it seemed to produce it's own light. Fleur gently placed the mask in Hermione's open palms. Celtic style spirals were etched into the cheeks and forehead of an otherwise feline looking mask. The brunette's fingertips traced the grooves of the disguise with some trepidation.

"'Zey 'ad 'eet fashioned to look like 'zee face of a fully transformed Veela. Rabastan 'ees quite 'zee silversmith non?" Fleur's light laughter did nothing to mask the nervousness eating at her.

Hermione turned to look over at her godmother. Bellatrix wore one of her tattered leather corset gown combinations, and there was no sign of her wanting to put on her robe or her mask. Bellatrix didn't care much for disguises. The other Death Eaters however, where working to conceal their identities.

"Keep 'zis on mon ange. You don't want 'zee Order to recognize you.". Fleur gently placed the ornate mask in Hermione's open palms, and she curled the brunette's fingers around the cold metal with her own. Fleur leaned over and placed a kiss on Hermione's forehead. "Bonne chance..." Hermione muzzled her nose into the crook of Fleur's neck; a favorite act of affection to Fleur. Fleur pressed her lips into Hermione's soft hair and sighed, bringing her arms to rest around Hermione's body once more. "Do you know where you are 'eaded tonight?"

"No." Hermione lied, nuzzling once more. The remained entangled in the other's arms for another minute. Hermione didn't want to leave the sanctuary of Fleur's arms. Nowhere else in the world made her feel so safe. A damp warmth could be felt on her scalp as Fleur struggled to stop crying. Hermione could only respond with a kiss.

Bellatrix suddenly clapped her hands twice loudly, calling all of the Death Eaters into the common room, where she stood before the fireplace. "I will be back soon baby...I promise."

"Be safe mon amor. Come back to me 'een one piece...please...". A few more fervent kisses and the two lovers drew apart, one turned toward the group in the parlor, and the other quietly absconded into the depths of the manor.

They all stood in a tight huddle, with Bellatrix the sole voice speaking. "Our plan for tonight is simple. We apparate into the wheat fields, and move toward the rotten house from all angles. I shall take point and draw their primary defenses out of the home with a diversion. Strike at the sides of the home as soon as you see them try and attack me. Kill no one but the target." A chorus of groaning. "That is an order from the Dark Lord himself!" She snarled, her eyes wild. "Rough them up, dismember them if you must, but _kill no one_. We need to concentrate our forces on the target, and though he may appear old and fat, no one must underestimate his power. Moody can think like one of us, he is all too familiar with our tactics. A few of us have battled him before. That is why we shall corner him, when he is bereft of his allies, and then we strike!"

One by one the Death Eaters apparated away, and Bellatrix approached Hermione, who was holding her silver mask with trembling hands. A quick nod from the dark witch and Hermione hurriedly tied her hair back and donned her mask. Her drawn hood completed the disguise. She disapparated with a pop.

* * *

The vast wheat fields ebbed and flowed like the surface of a golden pond. The moonlight danced across the field as the pack of cloaked figures swam through the plants, drawing closer to the dilapidated home that stood like a beacon at the field's center.

The Burrow.

A few lit windows dotted the tall house, a steady stream of smoke puffing from one of it's tin chimneys. A snakelike cloud of smoke whipped wildly around the house in broad sweeping circles. Bellatrix was stalking her prey, awaiting the perfect moment to strike. Hermione stood at the threshold of the field, staring at the closed front door; a door she was so familiar with. Her heart pounded and she crouched down deeply nestled amongst the wheat as she spied the Molly Weasley and Remus Lupin quickly pass by one of the windows. They were walking side by side up the stairs talking quietly amongst themselves. Each minute that passed felt like hours to Hermione, who was sweating underneath the thick cloak, despite the harsh bite of the night air. It was mid-March, and the thermometer moved barely an inch. She could see the silvery mist of her own breaths slip through the holes of the mask.

She had been preparing for this.

She had been made privy of the plans in the weeks prior when Bellatrix decided that a raid on the Burrow would be fitting for Hermione's first foray into combat with the Death Eaters. At the Dark Lord's request, Bellatrix passed her knowledge of dueling on to the young witch. Their training sessions occurred in complete secrecy; with Hermione sneaking off the grounds to meet Bellatrix in the depths of the forbidden Forrest.

Then they would fight.

It was extremely risky, sparring with the dark witch so closely to the Aurors. However the nerves nourished the two witches, fueling the adrenaline rush surging through their veins. These duels would last for hours on into the night, by the end one of the two women was nearly unconscious and bloodied. Hermione had to have her bed sheets replaced several times, as her roommates found the bloodstains to be quite unsettling.

When she was alone, Hermione continued to run and condition her body. Often she chose to subject her body to the elements, dueling Bellatrix during a raging snowstorm clad in only a tank top and shorts, or fully submerging herself in the inky water of the black lake on a particularly cold day. Her lungs would shrivel to raisins in her chest on contact, her breaths coming like jagged objects being hastily rammed down her windpipe. And she would force herself to swim to the far side of the bank before climbing out. Her shivers were nearly epileptic in their intensity.

Winter slowly gave way to spring, and the snowstorms had been replaced with rain, and the young witch was always out in the daily deluge. The training sessions gifted her with the occasional broken bone, but it was nothing the dark witch couldn't heal.

In the late hours of one night Hermione telekinetically cast the bombarda spell at a rather large boulder, that was several meters away. The resulting crater was nothing short of massive. Bellatrix beamed proudly, patting the young witch on her back.

It was at that moment the elder witch decided to reveal the plans for the raid.

The Jubilee was less than a month away.

At first Hermione felt great trepidation over the plans. So much of her young life had been spent at the Weasley home, could she really just attack it? Thoughts traveled back to Ron and Ginny, both of whom still regarded her at school with utmost vitriol. Ginny took things a step further, physically barring the doors to the women's bathroom from Hermione until everyone was finished. And still Lavender would insist upon smothering the sleeping Helen Gaunt with a bed sheet. Finally Hermione relented and asked Bill Weasley if he wouldn't mind keeping Helen at Shell Cottage. He was more than eager to oblige the simple request, and he even didn't question Hermione's wish that her mother be given a view of the ocean wherever Bill decided to hang her frame. With a simple reduction spell, Helen was whisked away via owl to the shore, and Hermione prayed every night for Bill to tell her that Helen had finally awoken. Unfortunately that message had yet to arrive.

Recently, she found herself with a daily task of defending Draco Malfoy from afar. At the urging of Narcissa, Hermione reluctantly agreed to keep a watchful eye on her son, and often that involved preventing calamity with her telekinetic ability. Draco still treated Hermione the same way he always did in the past, but it did not bother the young Gryffindor much. His jabs and insults paled in comparison to the sting of the words and actions of her former friends.

What hurt most of all was the behavior of Harry, who would simply avoid Hermione's gaze, and sometimes shoot her a forlorn look. He made a few mustered attempts to speak with her, but each time shied away and retreated back to Ron, Ginny and Lavender. Even Hermione couldn't find it in herself to speak to him.

Finally there was Fleur. Each time Hermione went to visit her at the Manor, the quarter-veela seemed vibrant and healthy, despite the dreariness that surrounded her. Fleur's duties as handmaiden were hardly such at all, as she mostly just accompanied Narcissa on her day-to-day activities, and while for the most part Fleur did not mind, she longed to just be reunited with Hermione once and for all. She was growing weary of Hermione's visits only being relegated to the weekends. And beyond that, the constant Death Eater presence in the household weighed heavily on her. Behind the shield of silencing charms, they would vent their frustrations and emotions during intense bouts of sexual activity. Fleur had grown to like the act of biting, her once gentle nipping now drawing blood on occasion. Strangely, Hermione felt she deserved the pain.

Fleur had been in correspondence with Bill, who recently made progress on convincing Mrs. Weasley to lift the jinx on Shell Cottage. While the news was good, Hermione still felt helpless, the hole she had dug herself into was getting deeper by the day. It was becoming a chasm.

And now here she stood; poised to attack the home of her former friends.

Her reverie was broken when Bellatrix suddenly flew straight through the uppermost floor of the Burrow, the windows exploding outward in a fiery plume. Screams could be heard from within the house as Bellatrix flew in another broad arc to strike the second floor. At that moment several of the cloaked Death Eaters made a run for the front door, led by an unmasked Fenrir Greyback, who kicked open the door with one powerful thrust of his leg. The curses and hexes started flying every which way as the attackers stormed into the cramped house. Bellatrix landed a few meters away from Hermione, still standing in a ready position watching the melee unfold before her. With a flick of her arm, Bellatrix signaled for Hermione to follow her, and the two witches ran in a low crouch to the far side of the house.

The fracas spilled out onto the front lawn, the furious dueling creating a vicious heat that caused the very paint on the side of the house to begin to curl. The heat permeated underneath Hermione's mask burning her skin and she reached up to pull it off only to be halted by the dark witch. "You cannot let them see you! Keep it on!" She hissed. "When we're inside, head straight upstairs!" Tonks and Lupin were viciously dueling Rabastan and Rodolphus a few feet in front of them, and Bellatrix paid them no mind. Hermione had to duck to avoid a stray curse flung astray.

The sprinted through the rear door, entering the dining room. Bellatrix strode proudly toward the large dining room table and climbed up on top of it. A loud cackle echoed off the walls as Bellatrix gleefully shattered all of the nearby china precariously stacked on creaking shelves and kicked flatware off of the table with her pointed boots. Like a child with a sugar high, the dark witch fired a barrage of spells from her wand, reducing the cabinets into a pile of sawdust. Hermione ran through the raining glass and sprinting toward the staircase. Bellatrix continued to laugh and holler, creating utter mayhem in the lower level.

She began her ascent, her boots stomping on each groaning step. Adrenaline coursed through her muscles as she tore upwards. Hermione nearly made it to the top of the landing until a bolt grazed the edge of her hood from behind. She fell hard on her knees, slamming her kneecaps into the edge of the top stair. Tumbling forcefully into the wall she recoiled in pain and curled into a ball, dodging another jinx that burst clear through the wall, sheet rock and wood splinters falling onto her. She scrambled to her feet and continued up the stairs in a full sprint, her body colliding with the walls as the spiral stairs snaked their way upward. Her pursuer was a few short steps behind. She felt for her wand but the thick fabric kept it well hidden.

Reaching the top landing she dove into the first open door she could find, willing it shut and locking it with a spell. The sounds of the battle outside were a dull roar, muffled by the floorboards. Hermione frantically searched for her wand and upon finding it she trained it upon the door that was now being kicked open, the hinges exploding outward from the wall. Through the slits of her mask she stared back at Ginny Weasley, wand aimed at her head. The girl trembled at the sight of the cornered Death Eater. "Get up!" Ginny shrieked, and slowly Hermione rose to full height, her hands held up in a gesture of surrender. "Expelliarmus!" The wand was flung a short distance from her gloved hand. Ginny still kept her own wand pointed at Hermione's chest. "Don't you move. I mean it!" Ginny turned her head to call out through the crack in the door, but as hermione made to get closer, Ginny whipped her head back.

She took a step toward Ginny, the floorboards groaning under her weight. Ginny visibly swallowed and looked over her shoulder and back to face Hermione who had swiftly closed the distance between them. The tip of the redhead's wand was pressed into the fabric of Hermione's robe. She brought her mouth close to Ginny's ear and whispered, "What are you waiting for?" Moving her body even closer, the wands tip was now pressing into the tender skin between her ribs like a dull knife.

"Cr-Cr-crucio!". The bolt connected directly with Hermione's chest, and it felt vaguely like a pinprick. Hermione could only snort and she leaned in once more. "You have to mean it you fool...you are weak..."

With a swift move of her arm she slammed Ginny against the wall, her forearm pressed hard against the other girls neck. The fist of her free arm delivered a brutal blow to Ginny's jaw, whipping the girl's entire head and neck to one side. The girl began to cry. _Accio wand_! Ginny watched helplessly as the wand slowly returned to Hermione's open palm. Aiming the wand at her former friend she smiled venomously from behind the mask. "Funny how easy you can simply cast others aside with your ignorance...but at the same time fail so miserably at casting a simple curse...might I offer you a, shall we say, refresher course_? CRUCIO!"_

"PLEASE! STOP! LET ME GO!" Ginny convulsed and shrieked.

Her shaking limbs rattled against the wooden walls. The screams were like music to Hermione's ears and she immediately struck Ginny with another crimson bolt. Throughout the girl's cries of agony, Hermione found herself laughing out loud. She pressed her body firmly against the convulsing one against the wall, bringing her metal lips close to the girl's ear. "I can't imagine to be like you…all of the pain and suffering you put people through…you're lucky…you are not the one the Dark Lord wishes to sacrifice tonight…though next time, things may not be so…providential. Crucio!" Revenge was sweet. The curse only lasted a few seconds, and Ginny had apparently fainted from the pain. "Incarcerous!" The girl was bound tightly. Hermione looked down upon the unconscious Ginny and scoffed, and in one last instant of uncontrollable anger she kicked the body hard in the rib cage. "See you in class!"

She returned to the hallway blindly blasting open each door, searching like a bloodhound for the aged Auror.

Maniacal laughter wafted from above, and Hermione instantly recognized Bellatrix' eager voice through the floorboards. They found their quarry. Following the sounds Hermione reached Ron's old bedroom to find Bellatrix cornering Alastor Moody. The leather-faced man was half lying on the ground on what appeared to be the remains of a chair. The room had been torn to bits, wood and glass littering the floor. Moody was covered in blood, as was the older witch who was bleeding steadily from a brutally split lip.

"Lecherous old man, have you no words now that death stares you down? Tell me now the ministry's security plans for the Jubilee and you'll be spared my wraith!"

The grizzled Auror laughed and hocked a gob of spit on Bellatrix' face. She recoiled on contact. Moody sneered. "Death? Ha! Don't make me laugh devil woman. All I see is a raving lunatic bitch! It was so satisfying seeing you shackled against the wall during all those years in Azkaban. Remember that dontcha...Bella. So very satisfying...watching you waste away and suffer." He continued to laugh madly. "Oh the things we'd make you do for food...you remember that don't you Lestrange? Starve you for a few days and then leash you up like the bitch you are." His words caused the dark witch to go pale, her expression a combination of shame and dread.

Hermione was dumbstruck at what she was hearing. Harry had once referred to this man as 'a sort of uncle'. The ministry celebrated him as a vanquisher of evil. All Hermione could see was a filthy ogre.

She pressed her hands to her ears. "Shut up, shut up, shut up you bastard!" Bellatrix screamed, hitting him with the crimson bolt of the cruciatus curse. He shook for a moment but his laughter did not wane. "Tell me what I want to know!"

Suddenly he spoke in a loud hiss "And how I _loved_ it whenever you'd beg for a change of clothes once I was through with you...". He licked his lips, his magical eye spinning fiendishly in it's casing. "You were delectable in those rags...even more so when I left you naked, and shivering on your cell floor. I'd be stiff in an _instant._" His words were venomous. "Look at you now...still dressing like a dirty slut." He breathed in deeply through his mangled nose.

She struck him once more, this time he visibly writhed in pain.

"Do your worst. You know that you'll only end up dead…or better yet, back in Azkaban, wouldn't that be nice? The boys will be so happy to see you again." He sneered through his teeth. She hit him with the torture curse again, but it was futile. "I'll tell you nothing you worthless cunt!" Saliva flew from his mouth.

Bellatrix snarled, rearing back to strike at him once more but Hermione was faster. _Incarcerous!_ The ropes appeared out of thin air, wrapping forcefully around Moody's neck. The young witch willed the bindings tighter, twisting his sagging skin and rapidly draining the color from his face.

Hermione nearly tripped as she sprinted to Bellatrix' side, ripping her mask and cloak off in the process. "You monster!" she shouted through burning tears. "You disgusting pig!" _Tighter, tighter, tighter! _Moody clawed at the ropes around his neck, frantically gasping for air. Bellatrix placed a hand on Hermione's forearm and gave a curt nod. With great difficulty, the brunette willed the curse to stop. Moody drew in a loud gasping breath, his good eye held wide open.

"Granger! With the death eaters...What...why..." The name came between a fight of hacking coughs.

Before Hermione could retort, the Auror swung his wand in a broad sideways arc and screamed the incantation, "Bombarda!" instantly the brunette was struck hard in the side by several exploded glass picture frames, vases, and porcelain platters that had been fastened to the wall; nails and all.

The glass shattered on impact, slicing into her, the enchanted shards ripping through the fabric of her clothes and imbedding in her skin. She crumpled to the ground, blood beginning to ooze out from the myriad of wounds.

Moody laughed once more. "So it all comes full circle. Now you've got the Granger girl under your spell? Ha! You're doomed to fail. The Dark Lord will fall. Whether or not you have the girl on your side. Kill me I'll tell you nothing." He swung his wand a second time and a far off window shattered, the enchanted shards of glass and metal struck Hermione like a hailstorm of darts. She held up her hands in a feeble attempt to shield her face, but the soft skin of her palms were torn to shreds. "Have you grown soft Lestrange? I must admit, it's kind of fun to watch you squirm whilst someone else tortures a _mudblood_." Suddenly something sharp struck the brunette hard in the chest, accompanied by an explosion of otherworldly pain. For the briefest of moments all of the sounds in the chaotic room suddenly fell mute, drowned out by Hermione's frantic heartbeat. She couldn't hear Bellatrix' screams.

"AVADA KEDAVRA...asshole!". Bellatrix shrieked and Moody's manic laughter ceased with the green bolt striking his chest. He was dead in an instant. Hermione wailed in agony and stumbled blindly around the room before collapsing against a bed. The girl crumpled in a heap, a sizable pool of blood forming around her feet. Bellatrix nearly retched, the girl was covered in large pieces of glass.

Hermione's skin burned.

Burned so badly.

Never had she experienced pain quite like this before. Blood seeped into her eyes, mixing with the tears welling in them. It only made them sting more. She felt as if she had been lit on fire and dunked in acid at the same time. "Bella...". Her words were a wheeze. "Help...me..." Her mangled fingertips pawed at the side of her neck, the skin now gritty with glass powder that rested on it like a fresh dusting of snow. The tip of one of her fingers ripped open as she found a significantly large spike of sharp metal from the window frame impaled through the thin skin above her clavicle. At the gruesome discovery she began to hyperventilate, each precious breath sucking the shard deeper and deeper into her muscle. Bellatrix ran to the girl's side, wincing loudly at the sight of Hermione now looking like a human pincushion. Noticing the quivering dagger of metal jutting out of the girls upper ribcage, Bellatrix wrapped her hands in the fabric of her dress, carefully gripped the top of it with her fingers before trying to yank it out with one hard tug. It failed to even budge before another bloodcurdling scream erupted from Hermione's wrenched lips.

To the dark witch's horror, the shard must have already been rather gnarled when it stabbed through the brunette. It had skewered at a sickening angle into Hermione's chest much like a fish hook. Bellatrix gagged as she felt the jagged spike tear through muscle and graze against the bones inside causing the girl to cry out once more. "Hold on dear..." Hermione felt the familiar sensation of apparition as Bellatrix brought them back to the manor. The appearing in the drawing room with a deafening crack, unwittingly startling Narcissa and Fleur whom were reviewing a ledger containing the Malfoy finances.

Hermione had landed hard on top of the dark witch. The resulting pressure was too great as she promptly rolled over and vomited upon the hardwood floor of the drawing room. Blood continued to seep from her open wounds, saturating the fabric of her clothes. Her head throbbed and her heart beat weakly, the blood loss wreaking havoc on her small body. She attempted to sit up, pressing her open palms on the floor. Quickly she realized this was a poor choice as it had only lodged the glass deeper into her hands and she wailed in utter agony. She could scarcely hear Fleur's screams over her own bloodcurdling wail and she could barely feel Fleur's hands upon her, deftly working to extract Hermione from her shirt.

Her lover spoke in rapid bursts of French. Bellatrix snarled. "Moody did this!" She stalked angrily around the drawing room, tearing at her curls in frustration. Narcissa joined Fleur at Hermione's side, easing the shivering girl onto her back.

"What happened to the poor girl Bella? Did the raid take place in a glass factory? Why is she covered in glass?" Narcissa's words were frantic. "And she's been stabbed!" With careful yet agonizing precision, she had managed to dislodge the large piece of metal from Hermione's chest, and was now attempting to heal the gaping exit wound in girl's neck. Fleur, still muttering in her native tongue, was desperately trying to keep Hermione conscious.

Bellatrix chewed on the tip of her thumb, to the point where it had begun to bleed. "I must go back...have to get the others.". She mumbled, her eyes looking anywhere but at the bloodied girl.

"She needs medical care now Bella!". Narcissa snarled. "Help me get her a healer before she bleeds to death!"

Bellatrix sucked in a deep breath of air, preparing to yell again until a earsplitting _CRACK_ silenced her. A plume of smoke permeated the air and out from the cloud stepped Lord Voldemort. Seconds after the rest of the Death Eaters returned.

Fleur, who had yet to be in the presence of the Dark Lord, cowered slightly, clutching possessively to Hermione's battered frame much like a child and her doll. The dark wizard, paid them no mind as he strode over toward Bellatrix. He reached with one of his yellowed arms and with his gnarled fingers eased a stray curl behind Bellatrix' ear.

"You have done well Bella...the grizzled Auror now lies dead...a hard blow to the Order...and the Ministry." Bellatrix did not respond, her hands held in tight fists at her side, her breaths still coming rapidly. Following her gaze, the Dark Lord's eyes fell upon the downed Hermione, her chest rising and falling very weakly.

Fleur looked up at Voldemort through tear burned eyes, the muscles of her face twitching. "Don't let 'er die...I beg you...don't let 'Ermione die 'ere..." Her words sounded more like a command than a plea. The other hooded people in the room gasped as they watched the blonde stand defiantly to face the serpentine man. She thrusted a finger at his chest. "She could've died tonight! She 'eez your flesh and blood! 'Elp 'er...I know you possess 'zee knowledge...Do 'eet now!." The blonde demanded as her facial features suddenly began to warp, her eyes switching between their normal shape and a more feline one. The orbs were entirely jade in color with a single slit like pupil.

Her fists opened and closed, as her nails began to elongate and grow razor sharp. Fleur fought against the transformation that so desperately wanted to occur, but this seemed to be a losing battle. She let out a cat like hiss. The transformation continued unrelentingly as a pair of massive wings burst outward from the muscles of her back in a tempest of feathers and blood. The shin bones of her legs elongated into muscular haunches that culminated in a pair of clawed paws. Hunched over Hermione's body like an animal, Fleur snarled at the Dark Lord, the sound like the roar of a threatened lioness. Her massive claws dug deep into the wood of the floor as she roared loudly. The Death Eaters all drew their wands and trained them upon the Veela in the center of the room. Greyback stomped one of his boots loudly on the floor, startling the beast, and Fleur began to cross the room with large strides, her dagger like claws unsheathed.

Voldemort, who stood mere feet from where the beast was, did not move, nor did he flinch through Fleur's displays of aggression. Fleur stalked closer to the Dark Lord, eventually leaning in close to his head, her throaty growl filling his ears. "Do 'eet." The Veela showed no fear whatsoever toward the powerful wizard.

The Dark Lord simply pulled out his wand and moved it around in an intricate dance. Bolts erupted from the tip of his wand and Fleur returned to her lover's side. He muttered rapidly to himself in Latin, and the glass turned into water, washing the blood away from Hermione's body. The wounds began to sew themselves shut. Fleur dropped to her knees in exasperation, her body slowly returning to normal. Her wings shed all of their feathers and the two bony appendages shrunk back into her back with excruciating slowness.

Lord Voldemort turned to face Bellatrix. "Come with me, we shall speak alone outside. We have much to discuss."

Bellatrix could only stammer. "But my Lord, Hermione she..."

"NOW BELLATRIX!" He snapped and the dark witch followed behind like a beaten child.

Hermione slipped in and out of consciousness, vaguely aware of what had been happening around her. Her once searing pain now a dull ache. Both Narcissa and Fleur lifted her off of the ground, and together the two blonde witches brought her to one of the upper bathrooms of the manor. Stripped bare and dipped into the warm soapy water, Hermione was finally knocked out.

* * *

**A/N**: Woot! 31K views! Amazing! Best Christmas gift a girl could ask for!

**A/N2:** Have an amazing Holiday, and to all my readers in the UK getting prepared to travel, be safe and I promise to kick the crap out of mother nature if need be.

ttfn, tata for now!


	20. Playground Love

It was but a whisper in the wind. "'Ermy..."

The pluck of a violin string. "'Ermy...". A baby's coo. Opening her eyes all she could see were swirls of muted color, she wanted to touch it, grasp it, but her arms just didn't want to move. Flitting in and out of consciousness, her brain fought to finally awaken. The lilted voice pulled her mind out of the depths of confusion.

"'Ermy...'Ermy...wake up..." Her eyes strained to focus upon the pristine face of the blonde witch hovering over her. Strands of silvery blonde hair swept across her cheek, the feather light ministrations like a lover's caress. "Réveillez-vous…"

The brunette's limbs groaned in protest as she struggled to sit up on the plush bed. Her chest was still very, very sore. Immediately her fingers traveled up toward her clavicle, tracing the delicate skin. A long spongy scar was all that remained of Moody's attack; it was still tender to the touch. "How...how long..." Fleur stepped back to give her some room to ease herself into a sitting position.

"At least ten 'ours..." They sat in silence, and Fleur remained rooted at the edge of the bed. Hermione held her arms open wide, welcoming the Frenchwoman to her, but Fleur would not budge; her arms were held tight across her chest. Hermione was instantly stung. The blonde refused a second time, and that, to Hermione, hurt worse than the spike that had been impaled through her just hours before.

"Fleur...I am so, so sorry...I never meant to get sucked in so deep...Moody he's-"

"Don't lie to me. 'Ermione...why didn't you tell me 'zat you were going to attack 'zee Burrow! You knew all along didn't you!" Fleur demanded, the volume of her voice steadily increasing. The bedridden witch twisted in confusion, Fleur looked different. Her face still appeared feline; her eyes still a profound color of jade with a single slit pupil. Her transformation back to human was not quite complete. "And to make matters worse…you return to me near death!" Her arms flew skyward in a dramatic gesture of exasperation.

"Fleur I-" She could only sputter, at a complete loss over what to say. What possible explanation was there? She forced herself to sit up straighter against the mahogany headboard, but before she could settle upon which words to offer next, Fleur had already begun to yell.

"'Ow long were you planning on keeping 'zis from me? Did you 'zink I would not find out?" Fleur shrieked; her fangs gnashing together with a snapping noise. Hands sprung forward on either side of Hermione's shoulders, half inch long claws piercing into the mattress. The brunette was pinned under the quarter-Veela's body, the pressure on her chest causing her to cry out in pain; everything still hurt. But the pleas from her were ignored. Fleur only pushed harder.

"I was going to...I swear! Ahh! You're hurting me!" Hermione protested between her teeth, squirming beneath Fleur's weight. The Veela leaned her head in even closer, her hot breath penetrating the other girl's ears. The pointed ends of her fangs grazed the soft skin.

"I learned from Bill...I floo'd 'im earlier to return a message and see 'ow 'e was doing…'e told me 'zee Burrow 'ad been an ambush by 'zee Death Eaters during a meeting of 'zee Order...and 'zat Moody 'ad been killed. Someone even tortured Ginny, 'e says she 'asn't come out of 'er room yet!"

"Bloody bitch deserved it!" The words had flown from her brain to her lips before she even realized it. Wide eyed, Hermione's hands flew to her mouth, clamping over it forcefully. Fleur gaped at her before baring her fangs once more. A hollow and crackling growl rumbled in the depths of Fleur's throat, reminiscent of a lion or tiger prepared to kill. Sweat was now beading at Hermione's hairline as terror gripped her. Fleur's anger was volatile. Two pulsating appendages threatened to burst through her back a second time. Hermione knew she was surely done for if Fleur were to fully transform again; for this time she'd be the target. Springing onto all fours Fleur now had the brunette cornered, drawing nearer with each step. The growl only grew louder.

"Fleur...be reasonable! Let me explain myself!" She was begging now, possibly for her own life.

The only response from the Veela was an intense snarl and a broad swipe from one her clawed hands. Luckily Hermione was faster, whipping a pillow to take the brunt of the hit, and it disintegrated in a splatter of feathers.

"Violence only begets more violence! If you go fully Veela…I don't know how to stop you! Please Fleur! Stop!" The brunette screamed. Grasping at the cushion, Fleur flung it aside in a sweeping arc, and she reared back to strike again. Her mouth opened as wide as it possibly could, her fangs fully bared; the wing appendages on her back about to rip through the fabric of her shirt. This time the growl had exploded into an all out roar.

Hermione wailed and resigned to her fate. Trembling arms shot up to shield her face, and the Veela pulled away instantly at the sight. Eyes shut tightly, Fleur turned her head to the side and she fought to return back into a human. She stumbled to the floor, wrapping her head in her arms, and she staggered around writhing wildly. A few whimpers escaped her lips as Fleur finally returned to normal. Hair veiled her face as she gazed back at Hermione with normal, albeit blood shot eyes.

Fleur looked up to face her lover. "'Ermione...I don't know 'ow much of 'zis I can 'andle..." Her breaths were frantic and heaving.

Now it was Hermione's turn to grow incensed. "Ginny has treated me like scum. Her family, save for Bill of course, has given you the cold shoulder for so long. You've said it yourself! Ron does not and never has shown me one ounce of respect. And you know that. He has done the same to you as well!" she ran a frustrated hand through her curls before letting out a sigh, flopping back to sink into the mattress. "Look, I know it was wrong of me to keep the plans from you, but understand my frustrations too Fleur. When I saw Ginny with her wand aimed at me last night, something just snapped inside me...my love for you, my need to protect you...it's eating me alive."

Fleur walked near the bed again. "I am unsure 'ow to take 'zat confession 'Ermione. One 'zing 'zough 'zat I am certain of: you 'ave too much anger...and so do I, I suppose… " Fleur slumped over, her shoulders slackened. "'Zee entire time you were unconscious I found myself feeling so 'urt, so angry 'zat you lied...'zat you 'ave 'urt people...I wanted leave you...just on 'zee virtue 'zat 'eet would be what 'eez expected." Fleur paused for a beat, her lower lip beginning to quiver. "But I 'zen 'zink about all 'zat you 'ave done, all 'zat you 'ave sacrificed for me...'eet causes me much confusion! So I 'ave come to realize 'zat you are like a fallen angel. _My_ fallen angel. I shudder to 'zink of where I might be 'eef I did not 'ave you...but do not for once believe 'zat 'eez all I feel...never 'een my whole life 'as someone shown me even an ounce of 'zee love and admiration 'zat you do. Not even my own family. You look at me and see past my 'zrall...my 'air and looks...you see 'zee real me, and you love me for 'eet.". Tears formed in her eyelids and she sniffled to prevent them from falling. "Seeing all of your wounds…'zee blood everywhere, and 'zat spike poking out of you...'eet was too much to 'andle...knowing you took 'zat for me. I 'zought for sure you would die 'zen and 'zere. 'Zee transformation, 'eet was uncontrollable once 'eet began…and 'zee rage…'eet made me want to 'urt you!"

Hermione gave a nod. "I…I understand…"

Fleur was now crying. "I told you not to kill anyone, and I was 'zee reason you almost died...and now I almost killed you..."

"Fleur you know that's not true...you were upset…well extremely so…" Hermione began with a nervous shrug. "Look, can we just move on for now…could you...could you hold me? I just...need to feel you."

Fleur obliged with a small smile amid her tears, climbing into the bed and allowing the brunette to rest her head on her chest. Fleur idly traced the veins of Hermione's arms with her fingertips. Her head turned slightly and captured Hermione's lips in a soft kiss. The brunette opened her mouth to welcome Fleur's tongue and the Veela responded in kind. Hands came to rest on Hermione's hipbones, and with a gentle tug Fleur pulled their bodies impossibly close together. Hermione pulled away slowly, and ended with an encore kiss that was more of a tiny peck on Fleur's now swollen lips. Their foreheads touched and for several quiet minutes they each dwelled on the sight of the other, both eternally grateful for the love they _still _shared. And relief washed over Hermione like a tidal wave.

The silence was finally ended by a simple query from the brunette. "Does it hurt?"

"Does what 'urt?"

"The transformation..."

"Very much." Wriggling free of Hermione's embrace, she turned and lifted her shirt, exposing her bare back. Running up her shoulder blades were two fresh scars, the elastic scar tissue in the process of gradually healing. They both were at least four inches in length and each was bright red and raw. Hermione reached a single hand to trace one of the scars, it was still tender as even the soft touches caused Fleur to grimace. "'Zee wings are 'zee most excruciating...like being cut open wiz a knife…'Zat was only the second time 'een my entire life 'zat I 'ave fully transformed. I 'ave come close, but never all 'zee way."

"When was the first?"

Fleur turned her head away, stammering over what she planned to say. "My-My fazzer...'e was a very strict man. 'E demanded so much of my sister and myself..._you are Delacour_! 'E would always say. Nuzzing less 'zan perfection. My sister and I were 'een Beaubaxtons togezzer for only one year."

"The year of the Tri-Wizard tournament."

"Oui. I needn't go 'eento 'zee details of 'zat year but when I 'ad returned 'ome to France...my Fazzer was utterly ashamed of moi since I came 'een last during 'zee most disastrous tournament 'een ages." Fleur struggled with her words. "My fazzer made me 'zee example of what not to be to my little sister. We engaged 'een a most terrible argument 'zee night I 'eard 'im say 'zose words to Gabrielle, and 'eet got so bad 'e moved to strike me but Gabrielle pushed 'im away. In anger 'e was going to 'it 'er and I felt 'zee transformation coming out of nowhere. 'Eet was uncontrollable once 'eet began. I tried to maul my own fazzer, and 'zough I wanted to protect 'er, I nearly attacked Gabrielle too. 'Zee look of 'orror on 'er face still 'aunts me to 'zis day." The blonde's voice was now ragged, and Hermione attempted to calm her with gentle rubbing on her back. "'E barricaded me 'een anuzzer room, and apparated away wiz Gabrielle."

"Oh Merlin…baby I'm so, so sorry…I had no idea…"

"'Zen I destroyed 'zee parlor and dining rooms of my family's home in my rage."

Hermione snorted, but quickly regaining composure knowing the response to be highly inappropriate at a time like this. Fleur shot her an incredulous look.

"You...destroyed an entire wing of your parents house? That's wicked!"

"'Ermione I'm being serious 'ere!"

"Fleur Delacour, destroyer of dining rooms, the same Fleur Delacour who is rendered petrified by insects and the smell of stale cheese." The brunette was now laughing, the noise drawing forth a smirk on Fleur's features. "Not a even a tea cup was spared of her wrath. Teacups. Oh the humanity! When will this wanton porcelain massacre end?". Hermione did her best impression of a BBC newscaster. Laughter descended into uproarious guffaws and Fleur's hands latched onto Hermione's side, tickling her relentlessly. The misery that had but mere moments ago saturated the bedroom had been washed away with their joyful laughter.

"The Veela are illusive by nature, and often resort to tickling as a means to bring down their prey." Hermione continued her charade amid her uncontrollable squirming.

"'Ave you 'eard? 'Zee wily Veela 'as claimed anuzzer victim!" After a few more minutes of cavorting about on the bed, the two lovers collapsed in a heaving pile of limbs, still laughing. "Oh I needed 'zat mon ange…'eet feels like ages since I last smiled so much."

"And what a beautiful smile it is too…don't keep it hidden love." Hermione's hands came to cup Fleur's cheeks and she placed a kiss on the French woman's lips before speaking once more in a sobered tone. "Please, believe me when I tell you that this is almost over. I promise." Another kiss.

"I wanted to tell you before…Bill 'as also asked me to come see 'im at Shell Cottage...and I intend to go...will you go wiz me?"

"That must mean…the jinx is lifted! You'll be able to move in." Hermione chewed on her bottom lip. "Are...are you sure? Is that alright with Narcissa?"

As if on cue, the blonde haired Malfoy matriarch suddenly entered the room, crossing toward Fleur in graceful strides, eventually resting a hand on the Frenchwoman's shoulder. "Of course it is. In fact I had to convince her to go, for she is just as stubborn as you. So yes, I am letting her go." Narcissa's stony gaze did not leave Hermione, and this made the young witch feel somewhat vulnerable. She shifted uncomfortably upon the mattress, her arms instinctively pulling her lover tightly against her chest. "Fleur is not safe here, the Dark Lord is growing restless, and it is evident that he is nervous about something. Fleur will be much safer elsewhere. If Mr. Weasley has indeed convinced his mother to lift the jinx, Fleur should go there post haste."

Hermione felt the tears pushing at her now closed eyelids. "Then what am I supposed to do?" She hung her head and her limp curls fell over her face. Her voice was wavering, each syllable a tremble of her lips. Fleur drew nearer and reached a hand to cup Hermione's cheek. "I am so very confused...is what I've been doing...right?"

Narcissa heaved a sigh. "In times like this, who is to say what is right or wrong? For the present time, you need to think about what is best for you both. I, as much as you Miss Gaunt, want to see Fleur safe and away from this darkness that is hell bent on consuming the world." Narcissa turned to address Fleur, her tone grave. "Your transformation last night has undeniably left an impression on the Dark Lord, and the last thing I'd like to happen is for you, Fleur, to be swept into this madness. That is why you must get out of here. I myself would follow suit, but I have been with Lucius for so long, I fear he will become even more broken than he already is. And then of course there is my dear Draco..."

Hermione frowned. "Baby, I want to do what I can to help you earn your freedom."

"'Eez 'zis 'zee path 'zat you 'zink will 'elp you do 'zat?" Fleur asked quietly, her thumb now gently grazing the skin of Hermione's cheek. She tucked a stray curl behind her lover's ear.

Hermione nodded weakly into the caress. "Yes...I want a future for us…if I don't see this through to the end…that future may not come to fruition."

"So do I..." Fleur struggled with her next words. Hermione pulled the French witch down next to her, easing down the sheets so Fleur could lie down. Narcissa gave a sad smile and turned to leave the two lovers alone. Hot tears began to form in Fleur's eyes as she captured Hermione's lips with her own in a soft kiss. "I am frightened 'Ermione."

"Me too..."

Everything came to a screeching halt when the three women were interrupted by the arrival of Bellatrix Lestrange. The bedraggled woman leant against the doorframe, her face still bloodied and dirty from the raid.

She had but one question.

"Anyone fancy a night out on the town?"

* * *

Hermione fidgeted with her flat cap; the wind was insistent on ripping it clear off her head. Fleur had an arm looped around her right, her heels tapping on the sidewalk. Try as she might to keep steady with Fleur's pace, Hermione still walked with a slight limp, each step sending pain through her wounds. The attack had been a week ago, and everything still was tender. Classes were but an interlude leading toward this weekend. The Jubilee tomorrow.

A few strides ahead of the lovers was Bellatrix Lestrange, walking at a fast clip brandishing her crooked wand like a gun, sweeping it from side to side.

All three women were dressed to the nines; Fleur in a sleek pencil dress, Hermione in a tight vest and slacks, and Bellatrix a form fitting ebony strapless cocktail dress. The elder witch had cast a multitude of glamour charms on herself, the rages of Azkaban but a distant memory on her now painted face. In fact, she looked nothing short of stunning.

It was nearly midnight, the damp city air fetid and thick from the low tide. Fleur's eyes flitted nervously at her surroundings, and she gripped Hermione's arm tightly. They were somewhere in the outskirts of London, traversing through a jungle of large brick warehouses, ducking through tight alleyways every so often.

Bellatrix halted in front of a dilapidated tool shed, built into the side of one of the crumbling edifices of a particularly large warehouse. She pulled out a make up compact from the clutch she was carrying and absently powdered her nose. Hermione impulsively clung to Fleur, as she noticed the scarcely dressed blonde begin to shiver with foreboding. Bellatrix drew her wand and struck the rusted padlock of the shed twice, and without warning the door slid open like an automatic entry of a convenience store. They were unexpectedly inundated with the sonic boom of a throbbing bass line and the roar of a distant, but nonetheless large crowd. Once they entered the rotting shed Hermione could feel her very eardrums pulsate with the thumping music and her eyes grew wide in surprise; behind the tool shed was an entire city street. It reminded Hermione of Diagon Alley...if it were more of a red light district.

"Welcome to Caligula Boulevard. The cesspool of wizarding London." Bellatrix sneered. "Come now...we have a meeting to attend. Stick close and talk to no one."

It was crowded. Many of the shops that lined the street were adorned with garish decorations and neon lighting. They passed many scantily clad men and women making them diverse offers of sexual favors for money. Drunken revelers stumbled out of bars in fits of laughter, and junkies were crumpled over on the curbside, twitching every so often. Pole dancing mannequins moved seductively in the windows of a magical sex shop; among other enchanted objects sold in the store. Hermione had a double take; it never once occurred to her that such places existed in wizarding England. Fleur, on the other hand, eyed the colorful display much in the way that a child looks at presents under a Christmas tree. They passed a small inn that had posted several rates, for everything from an overnight stay to 30 minutes.

They continued to move among the people for a few more blocks before Bellatrix halted them with an outstretched arm.

"Here we are…" Bellatrix yelled over the noise. "Shall we?"

They approached a very long line of well-dressed witches and wizards, leading to the front doors of what appeared to be a very posh nightclub. In garish neon lighting, the words _**Toujours Pur**_ would slither like a snake across the club's front marquee. The hopeful partygoers awaiting entry shivered with the cold night air and many tapped their feet with impatience. Hermione and Fleur made for the back of the line but Bellatrix simply strode past the throngs of people as if she were royalty, marching right up to the bouncer; a hulking half giant covered in piercings and tattoos. Bellatrix merely held her dark mark aloft in the lighting and gave a slight nod toward Hermione and Fleur. The bouncer regarded them with a flick of his massive head before pushing open the front doors.

"Dey're waiting for yous in da back." His baritone voice could be felt within Hermione's chest as they entered the club.

All around them scantily clad couples gyrated against one another with the beat of the music. Hands groped, legs hooked together, mouths latched on to one another, the entire scene intensely sexual. Women danced with men. Women danced with other women. Men with men. People engaged in sexual acts out in the open, completely unphased by the sea of people that moved in synchrony around them. The decadence in the club was palpable. The air thick with the smell of sweat and sex. And immediately Fleur seemed to fall under its spell, her hips moved along with the beat. It was hot and humid, each moving body like a furnace of wanton lust. They had only made it halfway across the club floor and already the three women had a slick sheen of sweat on their skin. A group of men clad entirely in black suits surrounded them and Bellatrix sighed, "Security. Ignore them."

"Where are we?" Hermione shouted over the roar of the music, though it hardly sounded like such. Already her ears were buzzing.

"Toujours Pur. A Palace of self-indulgence dedicated to the noble house of Black." Bellatrix said as flagged down a shot girl. She grabbed a shot glass of alcohol from the tray for herself, swallowing the contents in a whip like flinging of her neck. "Only pure bloods are allowed inside."

The crowd was indeed varied, but Hermione couldn't believe what she was seeing as she spied a half naked woman kissing a centaur deeply, her hands caressing his naked barrel chest. Around his neck was a shining phylactery. Hermione's eyes wandered over to her lover whom had chosen to even accent the piece of crystal now resting in the valley of her breasts. Fleur was now pressing her body into Hermione's back, and she snaked a hand down the length of Hermione's torso, eventually reaching down toward the apex of the brunette's thighs. Her thumb lazily grazed the fabric barrier that contained Hermione's sex, before dipping underneath the seam of her panties. The brunette chewed her lip in an attempt to stifle a whimper of pleasure as Fleur pinched the now throbbing nub. Gently she pried the lustful blonde from her body.

"The Dark Lord wants us to finalize the strategy for the Jubilee tomorrow, and here is a safe haven far away from the prying eyes of the ministry to hold a quick meeting. And well, thought it might be fun for you and Fleur. You know, to take the edge off." Bellatrix smiled coyly with a manicured eyebrow peaked.

"This was your idea?" Hermione gawked and Fleur pointed toward the bar with a smile.

"I am excited 'Ermione! When you are done wiz your meetings, I demand a dance!" Fleur tugged Hermione's arm playfully. "I'm off to get a drink, come find me by 'zee bar mon amor! I'll be waiting...". Her manicured nail trailed along the skin of Hermione's jaw line as she made her way toward the bar. The security guards stood confused until Hermione snagged one of the burly men harshly by the collar bringing his ear near her mouth.

"If anyone so much as looks at her..." She snarled. "You know what to do."

He cracked his neck and knuckles. "With pleasure."

Bellatrix laughed with delight and clapped her hands. Hermione shrugged and gave a half smile. "Stop giving me that look Bella. I can't help it. She looks...delectable. I don't want anyone else near her while we're in there!"

"Oh it's quite alright...though I should tell you, they do serve shots of pure amortentia in here."

"_Bellatrix_!"

"Thank me later."

"Ugh disgusting! Merlin! You're practically my _mother_!" Hermione said completely mortified. Bellatrix reached over and swatted the girl on the tip of her nose.

"Stop your whining. We're going to be having a potentially…complicated…day tomorrow, what's a little enjoyment for you and your love? Look at Fleur; she's positively beaming with excitement. Veela are like that. They love music, dancing, and of course...love. They thrive on sexual energy. All of that time spent in my sister's dreary mansion..." Bellatrix said with a crafty smile.

"She is leaving. Moving back in with Bill. Narcissa even pushed her to leave." Hermione deadpanned, catching the Dark Witch by surprise.

"Bill?"

"Bill Weasley. Her ex-husband...well soon to be."

"Fleur was married to a _Weasel_?" Bellatrix spoke acidly.

Hermione nodded. "But Bill is different. I think of him almost like a brother. I know he will keep Fleur safe until this is all over...Helen is there too."

Bellatrix stiffened at the sound of the woman's name. "Quiet." She wrapped her fingers around Hermione's wrist and weaved her way through the throngs of dancing revelers. Hermione however was growing agitated; fed up with Bellatrix' constant skirting of the issue of her mother.

"Bella I-"

A rapper had taken the stage as they moved across the dance floor. Accompanied by a booming bass line, he brought a wand to his throat and started to perform to the pulsating crowds.

_Are you doin' all right, are you so sure?_

_Will mummy still love you, if you ain't pure?_

_As I'm rappin' here, up on top of this stage_

_Our time, it's runnin' out, we all in a cage._

_Half bloods, mudbloods lockin' us up. Tossin' out the key._

_Sayin' purity ain't worth it. Well 'Scuze the fuck outta me!_

_That muggle shit flowin' through ya mudblood veins,_

_I'll cut it out from ya, no cleanin' up the fuckin' stains._

_Keep it far, far, far away from me._

_Keep mud outta my eyes, I only want to see._

_See that Voldemort stand up, rise up, stick it to the man._

_Toss the fuckin' Ministry into the frying pan._

_Burn it all, burn it down, nail 'em to the wall._

_For puttin' us under, like a veela's thrall._

_Makin' us weak with their muggle lovin' ways._

_Fuck that. Purity! Make sure that it stays._

_Are you doin' all right? Are you so sure?_

_Will mummy still love you, if you ain't pure?_

_

* * *

_

They approached a door to a VIP lounge in the far end of the club, flanked by two of the largest men Hermione had ever seen.

"Let us through. NOW!" Bellatrix snapped with commanding volume, and the men pushed the double doors open, ushering the two women into a smoky antechamber. Bellatrix strode through the thick plumes of cigarette smoke toward a long table, around which several figures sat amidst a heated game of cards.

"Aces and eights my boys. Read it and weep. Now pay up." One of the men threw down his hand to a chorus of groaning and tossing of poker chips. Gathering the piles like a greedy banker, he laughed loudly, his cigar climbing up his face as his grin widened.

"Oy! An ace of spades! I've got one o' them right here! Bastard's bloody cheatin'!" Chairs fell to the floor with a clatter and wands were drawn instantly, all trained on the winner of the round, who had his hands held high in a gesture of surrender.

"Now, now let's not be too hasty! Just a friendly game right? Fellas?"

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" The bolt knocked the man's body clear against the wall of the cramped lounge, his spine audibly cracking on impact. He crumpled to the ground in a heap. The remaining players simply resumed the game as if nothing had happened, and they callously tossed the offending ace of spades onto the corpse. Bellatrix cleared her throat loudly, garnering the attention of the men.

"Mrs. Lestrange!" They made to stand up but Bellatrix halted them with a raised arm.

"I want this to be brief, as I find that my skin is crawling just from being in your presence. My protégée and I won't keep you from your precious game for too long, but you know why I am here." She commanded the attention of the room with utmost finesse. All of the thugs sitting around the long table sat in rapt attention, clinging to her every word.

One of the hooded thugs eyed Hermione, who was standing near the doorway, with suspicion. "Hey! Ain't that bitch one o' _**the trio**_? What's she doing 'ere anyways." The others murmured their agreement, clearly becoming agitated by the brunette's presence in the room. They made to draw their wands before Hermione smiled wickedly, casting a telekinetic expelliarmus, startling them all instantly.

"Silence fools!" Bellatrix snapped amid the raining wands. "Did I not speak of an integral part of the Dark Lord's plan? _She_ is it. Look upon her again and you'll all be missing integral parts of your bodies, am I understood?"

"Uh, yes ma'am!"

"Now, tell me what it is I want to know and do so quickly, I feel disease coming on already."

The terse meeting proved not to be as informative as Bellatrix and Hermione had hoped. The local thugs charged with the task of aquiring the security layout of the grand jubilee had indeed completed it admirably; procuring a virtual blueprint of the proposed security arrangements on the grounds of Buckingham palace. It was the realization that the two witches were going to have to rely upon wits and improvisation alone to achieve their grand goals for the following morning. The only useful information provided was the fact that the ministry would have separate checkpoints entirely for the wizarding population and from which an antiapparition jinx would be put in place. Once they were in, they'd have to find their way out of the boundaries of the jinx. Easier said than done; Hermione cringed at the thought. Watching the meeting unfold it became apparent that she had officially passed the point of no return.

Do or die.

Now or never.

The mantras flooded her thoughts as she desperately clung to the idea that Fleur's freedom was but a day away. Pending her success, the damneble ministry would finally meet it's maker. Answer for it's crimes. Darkness would triumph and she would escape it before it consumed herself and Fleur whole.

* * *

Bellatrix retreated to the darkened upper loft bar of the club, bidding Hermione a _good _night with a smirk. As the Dark Witch turned to leave Hermione could not stifle the pang of sadness she felt toward the woman now making her way up the stairs. Bellatrix deserved better, she mused, as does Fleur. She would fight for both of them. Her family.

She returned to Fleur standing by the bar, her hips gyrating in a hypnotic fashion against the barstool, clutched in her hand was a large glass of wine. Hermione ordered them both a few shots of firewhisky, and poured a shot into her mouth and passed the intoxicating fluid to the Veela with a kiss. Fleur's lustful eyes met Hermione's and her tongue darted out to wet her lips, licking some stray drops of alcohol that beaded upon them. Closing the distance between them Hermione forcefully smashed her lips against Fleur's in a predatory kiss. In between each movement of their mouths Hermione tried desperately to speak. "Must...have you...now...I want you...so...so...badly."

They pulled apart. "Where do you want to go..._lover._" Fleur's thrall was choking her, as the Veela wet her lips with her tongue before diving in once more. They stumbled across the dancefloor, mouths latched together still. Hermione guided them toward a small lounge on the far side of the dance floor, away from the majority of the crowds. With a shove, The wine glass levitated and followed them a few feet behind, as Hermione willed the object to float before easing it down on a small table. Hermione sent the Veela sprawling across a plush couch before closing the lounge door and locking it.

Hermione threw herself ontop of Fleur and seized the collar of Fleur's dress with her teeth and tore it halfway down her torso in one swift move.

"'Ermione!" Fleur squealed at the sound of the fabric being torn apart.

"Shh!" Hermione admonished, quieting the blonde with another deep kiss. She sat upright on Fleur's stomach, her legs on either side, and lifted her shirt over her head and deftly removed her pants. Clad in a bra and underwear, Hermione seductively eased each strap down her shoulder before releasing the garment's clasp on her back. Breasts freed from the bra bounced forward, nipples instantly hardened as the brunette reached up to cup each mound, the entire display intoxicating the shaking blonde. _Accio Wine!_ The teeming glass of wine danced over toward Hermione's hand; once she had it, she quickly poured the contents down between the valley of her breasts.

"Still wanting some of that wine?" Fleur could only nod. Hermione cupped a breast, leaned downward, and offered it against Fleur's waiting mouth. Fleur welcomed it with a firm yet gentle suck.

"Oh 'Ermione, 'zeese 'zings you do to me..." Her mouth was still latched onto a breast, her tonge tracing broad circles around the nipple. She sucked on both, drawing forth every remenant of wine from the delicate skin. At that same time, Fleur's hands started to further the large tear in her dress, exposing more of her creamy skin to Hermione.

_Diffindo._

A low tempo electronica song wafting from the dance floor provided the soundtrack as Fleur's bra was slashed into two pieces, each falling to the floor and the brunette eased her down on to her back. Fleur's hips swayed beneath her with the song's rhythm.

_Diffindo._

Kisses blazed a trail down the length of Fleur's body, and Hermione continued to tear open Fleur's dress, stopping to pay extra attention to her breasts. She continued lower and smiled wickedly at the Veela's lack of underwear. Fingers grasped Fleur's right knee, raising her sculpted leg skyward and her tongue traced the striations of the blonde's firm calf muscle. She nipped at the taut skin before easing both legs open.

"Make love to me 'Ermione..." A whimper amongst heavy breaths. "Please..."

The pleas brought forth a rush of wetness Hermione hadn't experienced in weeks. Sweat poured down her body as she traced the swollen opening now quivering in wait. Hermione plunged inside with her fingers, pumping in a rapid rhythm. Fleur rocked along, moving her hips in time with Hermione's frantic thrusts. The blonde's body grew tense, each muscle pulsating with the wave of pleasure that was now coursing through her. The pitch of her cries only grew higher as Fleur's hips bucked upward. Through gritted teeth a throaty moan forced its way out of Fleur, and Hermione could feel her own climax rapidly approaching at the sound. They kissed madly once more, sating the rapacious hunger that threatened to consume them both.

Hermione fell victim to Fleur's expert tongue and fingers, her body convulsing with each orgasm that came. Surely she believed she was going to suffer a heart attack when Fleur pressed her throbbing sex against Hermione's, rubbing the two organs together with the sultry gyrations of her hips and abdomen. With an unexpected levitation spell, Hermione deftly rotated Fleur around ontop of her, so now that Fleur's knees were by her ears, the blonde's saturated sex positioned directly above her waiting mouth. Fleur's head was now at the apex of Hermione's legs and the Veela purred. Wetting her lips, Hermione pressed her mouth to Fleur's heated core, tasting the sweet juices that continued to flow forth. Fleur responded in kind, her pointed tongue flicked against Hermione's clit, and electricity sparked with each ministration. Hermione rolled her hips upward into Fleur's face begging for release, and the frenchwoman latched her lips around the engorged organ and pulled on it with one firm suck. Together they reached a choreographed orgasm, the magical energies flowing between them causing the lights of the room to flicker wildly. Fleur rolled off of her lover's slick frame and repositioned herself, sitting up on her heels and smiled devilishly. A thin line of threadlike saliva dangled from her lower lip.

Fleur fidgeted and soon Hermione could feel a moistened fingertip at her opening, and she had no time to react when the digit forcefully entered, followed by another, and another. Fleur leaned forward, pressing herself against Hermione, their breasts smashed together. Pinned under Fleur's body, she writhed as she could feel her tight core being stretched more and more. Teeth clenched in a snarl, Hermione stomached the pain the pleasure decided to bring with it, and Fleur continued to push. The perfect storm of sex, alcohol and Fleur brought a tsunami of ecstacy and the brunette could do nothing to suppress the scream that exploded forth. When she came down from her high, she felt extremely lightheaded and absently gathered the panting Veela into her embrace, clinging to her supple body like a child with a teddybear. Bringing Fleur's lips to her own she could taste the mixture of herslef and Fleur together. It was more intoxicating than any bottle of scotch or firewhisky she had ever drank in the past.

Both women lay in silence, words inadequate to express the emotions coursing through them at the moment. A ghostly sensation enveloped them both generating a light heat; Fleur's thrall. Hermione closed her eyes for a few minutes, focusing on the slight breaths coming from her lover's lungs, cherishing the warmth of her body. Her thoughts gripped at her and she held Fleur tighter.

One more day.

After tomorrow, everything was going to change.

* * *

**A/N:** 100K words. Damn. All I gotta say.

**A/N 2:** Happy New Year!


	21. Power

_Screams from the haters...got a nice ring to it._

_I guess every superhero needs his theme music._

* * *

The weather was mild that morning, the songbirds chirping tinny melodies in the treetops. All across the city the tranquility of nature was inundated with massive throngs of people making their way down the streets, pouring out from the tube, and thousands of cars snarled in traffic jams stretching for miles. Helicopters buzzed about like a swarm of insects, circling around the sprawling grounds of Buckingham palace. Camera crews from all corners of the world fought for the perfect perch, the perfect view of the palace, which had an elaborate stage set up in front of it. Everything was adorned with images of the Royal family coat of arms, as well as the British flag.

Security was tighter than anticipated as Bellatrix and Hermione moved among the sea of people. Both were dressed in plain clothes, jeans and shirts with light jackets, their disguises effectively rending them invisible to the crowds. Bellatrix struggled with the baseball cap perched on her head, earning the dark witch several snickers from her goddaughter.

Security checkpoints were ubiquitous, along with multitudes of heavily armed soldiers all toting deadly automatic rifles and pistols. Hermione blanched at the sight of the guns; muggles may not have wands at their disposal but guns, she figured, were in many ways much, much worse. Corps of riot police were also present, sizeable plastic shields at their sides. Security was heavy, to say the least. They approached one of the mobile security stands and allowed themselves to be pat down by one of the soldiers, and he used some sort of detection device to scan each of their bodies. It didn't look like any metal detector Hermione had ever seen. It chirped twice on both herself and Bellatrix.

"Left queue please." He barked to both women. The people that stood behind them were directed toward the right. Walking toward the directed line Hermione peered ahead to see that it led to a small tent that housed team of robed Aurors. Straining to look a bit harder it was evident they were confiscating wands, and placing them into enchanted boxes. Bellatrix tipped the brim of her hat forward, it's brim concealing her charcoal eyes in a veil of shadow. The Aurors, so overwhelmed with the magnitude of spectators let the fugitive death eater slip right through their fingers.

A young Auror stood by the exit to the tent and addressed the small crowd inside. "Wands here. They will be returned to you at the conclusion of the day's festivities. Should any attempt be made to sneak a wand inside, you will be subject to the full punishment of Ministry law; there is an anti-wand charm set within the confines of the crowd. Should any spells be attempted the wand will short and notify the nearest Auror." Bellatrix and Hermione, sequestered within the densely packed group of people, dutifully surrendered their wands without hesitation; they expected and prepared for this. After all of the occupants placed their wands in the containers, the young Auror cleared her throat and continued. "Please take note there is an anit=apparition jinx in effect for the city limits and a temporary suspension of the entire London floo network; effective until midnight Greenwich Mean Time. Observe all muggle and magical laws while at the jubilee. Leaflets available are inside the grounds, as are souvenirs. Enjoy the jubilee!"

They exited the tent and walked directly into the largest crowd of people Hermione had ever seen. It stretched on for what seemed like miles, and ebbed like the surface of a pond in a windstorm. Bellatrix clasped tightly to Hermione's arm as they navigated their way toward the front of the crowd, careful not to step on anyone, and more importantly to avoid Bellatrix being recognized. Wading through the ocean of onlookers was tedious, and the two witches earned many a groan as they pushed and shoved their way to the very front gates of Buckingham Palace.

Up against the cast iron fence Hermione shrugged in exasperation, grasping at the black and gold bars with both hands. "I don't think we'll be able to get any closer than this Bella."

"Will this work? Have you a good vantage point from here?"

Scanning their immediate surroundings Hermione calculated many risks in her head. Her task was the least of her worries at the moment, and she tried to pull her mind away from fixating on the legion of muggle soldiers patrolling the grounds. She inhaled deeply and nodded her silent confirmation. The dark witch prepared to speak once more but Hermione silenced her. "I need a few moments to meditate." Bellatrix gaped at her goddaughter whom was noticeably preparing to enter a trance by easing her eyelids closed.

The scene surrounding the two witches was nothing short of chaotic; people were amassed everywhere, most tremendously fervent to see their monarch and the royal family. Littered throughout the colossal gathering of spectators were protesters as well, toting picket signs with various words and slogans of anarchy and antagonism. They too, were creating much noise; the sounds bringing a smile to the young witch's face.

The stage had been set, Hermione mused as she willed her sense of hearing to lessen and drown out the din of the horde. Focusing upon the steadily beating heart in her chest, she willed it to slow its pulse, and dilate the intricate network of veins and arteries; nourish the muscles and provide her with the strength she needed. The strength she had been readily building for nearly half a year.

It all came down to this moment. The prospect of Fleur's freedom, and their future, was palpable. Saliva pooled in her mouth as though she had been presented with a delectable meal that just a little to far out of reach. A hunger stirred within her gut. The plan had been rehearsed over and over in her mind. Armed muggle reinforcements were hidden deep within the masses but that mattered little to her at the moment. They had but one shot, and Hermione was going to make it count.

A fanfare of trumpets silenced the crowd and stirred Hermione from her trance. The two witches followed the sights of the onlookers toward the grand front entrance of the enormous palace.

"Pomp and Circumstance" began to play over the PA system and the effect of the music could be felt instantaneously. The crowd reacted passionately; many waving banners and the British flag, and Hermione could've sworn she felt the very ground lurch beneath her feet with the electric excitement coursing through the masses. The Prince and his two sons were the first to appear in the entryway, waving and smiling. Bellatrix looked completely bewildered at the adoration of the people being pored out to the Royals. Several other members of the court appeared shortly after; all waving in the same emotionally distant manner as the Prince, causing Hermione to scoff. Sweat now saturated her shirt and she absently tugged at the collar of her light jacket, finding the garment suffocating. She peeled it off and tossed it on the ground.

Several well-dressed people crossed in a group toward the Royals congregated on the front steps. Foreign diplomats most likely, Hermione thought, and she continued to watch them closely, her eyes constantly flitting from them to the royal family. Among them was the muggle Prime Minister, and Kingsley Shaklebot, walking a few paces behind.

Several speeches were given, and the crowd listened with rapt attention, each face with jaws slackened and mouths agape. Two faces, however, remained stoic as stone. To the young witch the haughty orations all seemed to blur together, each one a disingenuous promise of prosperity and hope.

Hope.

The concept had grown so foreign to her in the recent weeks. The same could be said of dreams; as Hermione came to find that all they did was leave truth behind. She leaned over toward Bellatrix' ear, and gestured at the diplomats. "Listen to them up there, casting aside reputations built upon greed and corruption; concealing it behind a guise of hope. Wolves in sheep's clothing. The people hang on to every word they say as if their lives depended on it. Those men and women there, in the suits, half are in conflict with the other. They'd jump at the chance to stab the other in the back. Sickens me."

Bellatrix only nodded absently in response. "The blind leading the blind." The words were nearly lost as the rapid crescendo erupting from the crowds swallowed the dark witch's voice whole. Another grandiose fanfare began and finally, the diminutive British monarch slowly hobbled outside onto the stage. The ravages of old age had not been kind to the Queen, one of her arthritis ravaged hands clutched the Prince's arm vice-like, while the other was held upright giving a weak wave. The adulation of the crowds flowed forth like a deluge, and the Queen could only muster a weak smile in its wake. Hermione watched her prey closely, and swallowed hard before closing her eyes.

"Now!" Bellatrix hissed.

The sounds surrounding her dissolved into nothingness; as though the entire world had suddenly been submerged underwater. Eyelids clamped shut, her mouth and throat became entirely desiccated. The pulsations of her heart decreased in speed and frequency, her veins and arteries expanded to welcome more blood to her contracted muscles. Her eyes reopened. All around her everything now moved in slow motion, and the only sounds she could perceive was the cavernous inhale and exhale, echoing through her ribcage. Images began to flash like projector slides through her mind.

First she could see the youthful faces of Helen and Bellatrix laughing together, and leaning into each other for a soft kiss.

It faded to the loving visage of Bill and Karana, caressing one another in a tight embrace, their eyes gazing longingly into the others.

Finally she could see Fleur.

Silvery blonde hair that moved like a waterfall whenever she laughed; that beautiful laugh that Hermione loved to hear. A supple body with pillow soft skin, hands that spoke for every want and desire. A vision of loveliness that gripped at Hermione's very soul.

But then she heard the taunts. The words of hate and ignorance. Fleur's visage immediately warped into that of her Veela form; wings a flutter, and teeth bared in wrath. Behind her was the Dark Lord, grinning intensely. His lips moved slowly from the shadows of his hood, each syllable stringing together into the incantations. All at once her senses were assaulted. She could taste metal on her tongue, and her nose filled with a odor reminiscent of rubbing alcohol. Neurons screamed as axons burst with renewed vigor and the incantations exploded one by one into a myriad of colors behind her eyelids.

_Bombarda! Bombarda! Bombarda! Reducto!_

Windows on the Palace burst outward one after another; a glittering rain of glass falling down upon the royals. They all screamed in pure terror, turning on their heels to flee. But all was still happening so slowly to the young witch who willed the spells a few more times, causing several of the stone steps of the grand stair case to turn to rubble in a brutal manner. She could see the screams forming on the faces of the royals, the muscles of their jaws and lips rippling like disturbed water. Her own body shook violently with each incantation, and her skull pulsated in her head. Blood trickled out from her nose.

_Confrigo!_ _Confrigo! Confrigo!_

Flags disintegrated into billowing masses of fire and the frenzied people rushing to flee from the flames, knocked several of the banners to the ground, igniting the carpet that sat upon the balcony. Soldiers, guns at the ready, began to make a beeline for the Queen, who was seemingly paralyzed with fear; her gnarled hands clutching at her heart. Hermione had but seconds before the guards would reach the Queen. They were too slow. The words scalded her mind as she screamed the word within herself.

_**CRUCIO!**_

The Queen immediately convulsed in undeniable torture, her fragile body whipping back violently. The curse only needed to be cast once and the effect was instantaneous. She dropped like a stone to the ground, her head bouncing cruelly on the concrete. To anyone that was watching, it looked like she had been shot in the head with a high-speed bullet. The people watched in horror.

"The Queen!" Someone had screamed from behind.

"God save the Queen!"

"She has been hit!"

"Terrorists!"

"We're under attack!"

"I don't want to die!"

People rushed every which direction. And several of the protesters rushed forward, lobbing stones and debris over the fence. Hermione started to tremble, her muscles growing weak. Suddenly she was struck hard in the shoulder as a man scrambled past. The blow immediately knocked her on the ground and she fought to standup once more but the flood of feet rushing past kept her pinned. A sneaker connected brutally with her nose, the cartilage cracking on impact. Bellatrix fought through the stampede and lunged for the downed Hermione. Once on her feet she struggled to plug the blood gushing from her nose with her fingers. She was completely lightheaded and had no time to take in her surroundings as the two women were swept into the rushing current of people fleeing the grounds.

"Run Hermione! We have to RUN!" Bellatrix screamed before taking off into a sprint, tugging the lethargic Hermione with her.

People were being pushed and trampled everywhere. Including Aurors. They had succeeded. They created pure, unadulterated chaos.

A distant popping sound could be heard, growing ever louder over the din of the panicked masses and Hermione's eyes shot wide open in terror. Soldiers armed with rifles and batons were beginning to fight back.

Hermione screamed at Bellatrix. "They're firing on the crowd!"

In the sudden panic and confusion Hermione stood rooted to the spot in the realization that they both very well could die today.

Boom! A plume of tear gas seeped through the mob and instantly they were thrown into a violent fit of coughing. Bellatrix clawed at her throat, and pulled the collar of her t-shirt over her mouth. Hermione felt vomit rising up her throat with each heaving cough. They had to keep moving.

_Stupefy! Stupefy!_

People were knocked skyward by an invisible force, effectively clearing a path for the two witches. This garnered the attention of several nearby soldiers. They continued sprinting for the exit gates and the soldiers suddenly gave chase, one of them shouting they had found the suspects. Bellatrix cut a sharp left and barreled through the Ministry checkpoint tent. They whipped through the door flaps as a barrage of bullets tore through the canvas, splintering the wooden support beams, causing the tent to begin to buckle around them. They pushed through the sprays of death, both summoning their wands with a quick shout. They rolled underneath a metal table within the tent; the object a temporary shield from the bullets. The canvas tent was beginning to collapse on top of them, trapping them both behind the table.

"Damnit they're shooting at us now!" Hermione cursed over the noise, her hands clamped tightly to her ears.

"Shooting what!"

"Bullets Bella! They are worse than spells! Don't let them hit you!"

"We have to get out of the anti-appartition jinx!"

"What do we do! They've got us surrounded!"

"Leave that to me, in the count of three, get ready to run like hell!"

"Bullshit!" The young witch spat. "We have magic. We can fight back!"

Bellatrix smiled wickedly before shooting up to her feet. "Excellent. CONFRIGO!" Flames burst from the tip of her mangled wand as if it were a blowtorch, and the ragged canvas ignited instantly. The flames consumed everything in their path, including the box of confiscated wands that burned with a spectrum of brilliant color. Bellatrix and Hermione strode through the tempest of flames and without delay started to fire a barrage of stunning spells at the soldiers, knocking them back like dominoes. Bellatrix' hyena cackle rang loudly over the clamor of bloodshed and she gleefully hit a group of riot police with several shots of the torture curse. The armed soldiers stood paralyzed at what they were witnessing before a flourish of pain felled them.

Pivoting quickly they sprinted for the mammoth Victoria Memorial on far side of the street. Riot police pushed back against the crowds, a feeble attempt to keep the peace. And Hermione could see several Aurors moving among the people as well, stunning them. To her delight, the rioters even began to attack the Aurors in a flurry of punches and kicks. Some even flung Molotov cocktails, setting several of the magical soldiers' robes aflame. Magic wasn't helping them here.

A vicious fight broke out by the moving barricade of riot police rounding the base of the memorial, and people began hurling themselves against the riot shields and threw anything they could find at the police. A chorus of car alarms and shattering glass could be heard for miles.

"There's our chance! Let's go!" Shouted Hermione with an outstretched arm. They ran again, dodging the flying stones and glass bottles being hurled in every which direction. A mere fifteen feet from the riot police Bellatrix fired a spell to down several of the armed guards. Hermione leapt clear over their bodies and sprinted down a side street with Bellatrix only a few paces behind. Gunshots raked the brick walls of the buildings they passed. Gravel burst from where the bullets impacted, scratching her across the face. They just needed to get to an alleyway.

_Bombarda!_ As she ran, Hermione blew out the door and front window of a convenience store in hopes to draw away the attention of the shooter. The explosions provided a veil of smoke and fire, concealing the two women and Hermione was first to dive into a nearby alleyway. Nothing was visible through the choking smoke and her eyes burned painfully in the soot. She pressed her body into the shadows and attempted to still her ragged breathing. The smoke was slowly beginning to clear but Bellatrix was still nowhere to be seen. The muffled voices of soldiers rushing by could be hear in the distance.

"Bella!" She hissed. "Where are you?" She turned around to peer down the alleyway. There was nothing of note except for a pair of rusty dumpsters and an old Volvo sedan parked next to one of them. Her mind was working a mile a minute, and she fixated her eyes upon the car. However, the sound of whimpering from behind her broke her wild thoughts.

Hobbling into the alleyway clutching at her lower torso was Bellatrix. Hermione froze in horror at the sight of a slick black stain growing on Bellatrix' shirt. The dark witch had been shot. Bile rose in Hermione's throat as she watched Bellatrix struggle to plug the gaping bullet hole in her side. As she turned around, on Bellatrix' back Hermione could also see another tear in her shirt; most likely the exit wound.

"Fucking muggles...get out of here. I'll find my way out. Go." Bellatrix grunted, coming to lean against the brick wall. "Find where the jinx ends and get as far away from here as you can. Get…to…the Ministry."

"And leave you here to die? Forget it. We're getting out of here _together_." The brunette knelt down next to the wounded Bellatrix and tore a strip of cloth from her own t-shirt. Hermione took one for the dark haired witch's hands and placed the balled up cloth into it. She pressed Bellatrix' palm clutching the fabric against the entrance wound, effectively stuffing the cloth balls into it. The elder witch snarled at the pain. "Don't you dare lift your hand off this wound until we are in the clear." Hermione demanded angrily before standing up.

"I can't run anymore, my side Ahh, the cruciatus is a tickle compared this..."

The high-pitched wail of police sirens whizzed past, followed by another cacophony of bullets colliding with the brick and cobblestone. Both witches immediately reacted and shielded themselves with their arms.

Once the noise died down, Bellatrix' face had contorted into an expression of pure agony and she bit down hard on her tongue to stifle a scream. Hermione remained astride the wall, leaning out to peer down the street every few seconds. The smoke had almost entirely cleared, affording her a clear line of sight down both ends of the side street. Soldiers ran past on one end, the other appeared clear. Staying low to the ground, the young witch scampered toward the Volvo, and pressed her back into the driver side door.

She stood against it, and with one fell swoop of her elbow, she smashed in the window. The glass tore the skin of her arm, but the adrenaline coursing though her veins made the pain barely register in her mind. Unlocking the door she slipped into the drivers seat and ran her fingers underneath the console.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!" Bellatrix called out.

Recalling every muggle suspense movie she had ever watched, she ripped the console free from the paneling. It vomited out a spaghetti mass of dusty wires. She sorted wildly through the tangled cords, searching frantically for the ignition and starter wires. The dark witch's cries could barely stifle Hermione's intense concentration as she deftly started to strip the wires with her fingernails. She worked with the precision of a surgeon before finally threading the two live wires together. Quickly she yanked out and stripped the starter wires and upon touching the two copper cords together, the Volvo's engine roared to life. A swell of pride surged through her.

She returned to the bleeding witch by the wall and grasped her under the arms and dragged her toward the car, easing her into the passenger seat. Bellatrix' blood was already seeping into the cloth upholstery. Hermione took the wheel and shifted the car immediately into second gear, slamming hard on the throttle and peeling out of the alleyway and onto the street.

"Bella!" Hermione cried, her gaze steadfast upon the road. "Take my arm, hold it and just keep trying to apparate, you've got to try!"

Hermione shifted into the third gear tearing down the street, weaving in and out of the lanes. Bellatrix held weakly to Hermione's wrist and braced herself as Hermione took a vicious turn through a roundabout. The cars momentum pressed Bellatrix' wound directly against the center armrest and she cried out in agony.

"Keep trying Bella! Please!" The squeal of deafening sirens drowned out her words.

Squad cars suddenly gave pursuit. It was like a pack of wolves chasing a deer, and a slew of expletives burst from Hermione's throat as she could see the cars approaching through her side view mirror. The side streets were giving way to the highway and to Hermione's horror, she could see a major traffic jam of cars attempting to leave the city. Throwing the Volvo into the highest gear, she tore across the median and turned into the oncoming lanes. With a whip of her arms, narrowly avoided a head on collision with a truck. Her palms were slick with sweat as she violently swerved through the flood of cars and trucks heading straight for them. The Volvos engine screamed in protest as her foot jammed the accelerator to the floor Through the mirror she could see the squad cars were in pursuit once more, and this time hey had backup.

High in the air a machine gun attached to a military helicopter opened fire on the Volvo. Bullets peppered the side doors and hood with a deafening clatter. It reminded the young witch of a hailstorm she had once driven through with Mrs. granger when she was younger, and from what she could recall, it was a terrifying experience. This was no better. The bullets continued to rain down on the car, and she nearly lost control when a few rounds pierced through the rear window, tearing into the plush seats like knives.

"Do you feel anything yet Bella?" Hermione shouted, her hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel. Bellatrix weakly shook her head.

Bang! One of the bullets tore through the rear left tire, and it disintegrated on impact. The Volvo swerved wildly across the highway as Hermione struggled to right the vehicle. The rubber tire tore free of the rim and a shower of sparks was now trailing the car. It made the Volvo look like a rocket being fired across the road. To say that Hermione's stomach was in knots would be an understatement but she soon she could feel a slight tug at her navel.

"Bella, that's it! Keep trying! We must be getting close to the edge of the jinx! I can feel it! Just a little bit more!" The engine of the car was nearly at a screech as Hermione had the gas pedal pressed completely to the floor. The clutch rattled as if it were in the middle of an earthquake. A bullet grazed the headrest of her seat and pierced the windshield causing a spider's web of cracks to expand across it. She was driving blind. Clipping the side of an oncoming van, she struggled to right the vehicle, though she could not see a thing through the obliterated windshield. For a second she thought to cast the bombarda spell at the windshield. But her understanding of simple physics told her that the idea would only result in the same gory mess that Moody had caused her days ago. Lifting her left leg out from under the console she angled her body at an impossible angle and kicked firmly at the windshield with the sole of her shoe over and over.

Bullets clanged against the roof of the car as she finally managed to kick a sizable hole, just enough to see an enormous wide bed truck flanked by two other cars barreling toward them.

"Shitshitshitshitshit!"

All three lanes were occupied and the shoulder was along the far side of the road. She had only one shot. One try before certain death. She gripped the wheel and aimed the car at the smallest car to the trucks right.

_Wingardium leviosa. Wingardium leviosa. Wingardium leviosa!_

Focusing upon the smallest car she willed the vehicle to suddenly lift from the road. With each repetition it wobbled a little bit higher, but to her horror, not enough to fully allow the Volvo to pass beneath it. They were only a few feet from impact. She could feel her chest burning in pain.

"Bella get down!"

The Volvo tore underneath the car, it's tires pressing hard into the battered roof like a fist, pushing it in hard. Hermione's chest slammed hard into the steering wheel. It felt like a punch to the diaphragm. They cleared it and continued down the highway, and Hermione could not catch her breath quick enough before Bellatrix gasped loudly with fear.

"Look out, up above!"

In the side view mirror she watched in terror as the helicopter ducked lower, ready to make a low pass at the car. The gunman in the craft was quickly working on loading another magazine when finally Hermione could feel the familiar pull of sidelong apparition. The barrel of the monstrous machine gun was beginning to rotate, a hornets nest of bullets fully prepared to slaughter the Volvo once and for all. The roof was so badly damaged, it would only take a few of the armor piercing rounds to rip clear through it. Hermione wanted to cry, to pray but she wasn't ready for death, no. Today wasn't her day to die. She removed her foot from the accelerator and fixed her sights a few yards away across the median. Bullets began to strike the hood and sunlight streamed into the car. She closed her eyes tightly and removed her hands from the steering wheel. The Volvo drifted toward the median, making a beeline for the guardrail. She could feel the tiny sonic booms of each high-speed bullet as it tore into the car.

Then it felt like her navel was being ripped out.

Pop! They tumbled against a tree on the far side of the highway. Hermione stood to see the Volvo get torn to shreds by the sniper before exploding into a huge cloud of smoke and fire. The wreckage skidded to a halt and was barely recognizable as a mass of twisted metal and flaming upholstery. Bellatrix was bracing herself against the tree trunk with her right hand, the heel of her left palm was pressed firmly into the bullet wound that was still steadily bleeding. She appeared woozy before collapsing against Hermione.

Soldiers surrounded the wrecked Volvo, their rifles trained upon the massive knot of smoldering metal. Hermione knelt forward and rested her hands upon her knees in exhaustion.

They had done it. It was over…

* * *

**A/N:** Lyrics at the beginning are from Kanye West's 'Power'.

**A/N 2:** Its time for that dreaded, 'oh-man-real-life-sucks' note. I've been pretty good with posting this story, and hope to have the next part up within a week or so. Just a heads up, things are getting a bit rough for me at the moment, but I promise to be diligent in seeing this story completed soon. :D


	22. Burial

It was over.

In a matter of hours Voldemort would sack the ministry and hold up his end of the bargain. She turned to face the ailing Bellatrix, whose face was nearly white. Hermione scrambled to the ailing woman's side, supporting Bellatrix' back with her hand.

"How're you holding up? Think you'll be alright to apparate?"

Bellatrix bared her teeth with a hiss as she struggled to sit upright. "I don't think I have much of a choice. They're bound to find us if we linger here" Her neck lolled to the side and she looked out across the highway, gazing at the multitude of soldiers that seemed to grow in number.

Hermione grasped onto Bellatrix' wrist and tensed upon the touch. Her skin was growing cold, her pulse growing weaker by the second. The circles around Bellatrix' already sunken eyes were more pronounced than ever. Whatever damage the bullet had done on its path through the torso of the dark witch, was considerable. She let go of Bellatrix' hand and searched on the ground for a sizable twig which she swiftly transfigured into a scrap of cloth.

"The bleeding is profuse, we have to bandage it."

"No!" Bellatrix snapped angrily. "There is no time. We cannot keep the Dark Lord waiting! He is about to have his triumph at the Ministry, we must be there to witness it!" She winced again as Hermione gently probed the wound.

"You're going to go into shock if we don't do something now." Hermione spoke in a tone that was deathly serious; pronouncing each syllable carefully. "And I am almost certain that Voldemort doesn't want his celebration to be marred with having to remove your entrails from the floor. So quit being such a brat and just lift your shirt for me a little."

With a begrudging sigh, Bellatrix complied, lifting the soaked garment to reveal her belly. The entrance wound was situated just about her pelvis, and already the abscess was bright red and swollen. With great care, Hermione eased the woman forward and found the exit wound in her back. She could barely stifle a loud gasp as her eyes scanned the gnarled and shredded skin steadily leaking blood.

"Can't you just seal it already? Use a spell!" Bellatrix' voice was growing weaker though it did not belie the frustration that was clearly underneath the words. She was also beginning to shiver. Her plea went ignored and carefully, Hermione wiped the gore from the woman's skin with her hands, and shaking it away into the grass.

"Well we can rest easy that the bullet isn't lodged inside you. We'll need some dittany to close the wounds for certain, but the same cannot be said for what ever damage is on the inside. Once we're at the ministry building we can search for something to help, but in the meantime I need you to stay awake. Fight any urge to close your eyes. Promise me that Bella!" With a weak nod from Bellatrix, the young witch got to work wrapping the conjured bandage around Bellatrix' torso. She made sure to apply slight pressure over both wounds as she did so, despite earning a chorus of protest from the older witch. When she was satisfied, she helped the older witch to her feet. "Alright, I'm going to apparate us to the ministry, you damn well better stay awake, lest we leave half of you behind. And I don't plan on coming back here to get you!"

CRACK! They arrived outside of a cherry red phone booth in London, the only portal to the Ministry that Hermione knew of. The events in Westminster had a ripple effect, people were frantically rushing through the streets and cars were tangled in a massive traffic jam. Many people were shouting into their cellphones, wild attempts to locate their loved ones. Each person on the street was engulfed in their own personal panic attack. No one saw the two women arrive one of which was soaked from the waist down with blood. Bellatrix was now sweating profusely and shivering as Hermione struggled to get her into the cramped confinement of the phone booth. The pupils of her eyes were almost completely dilated. "Please Bella...stay awake...please...we're nearly there."

The Dark witch, however, barely acknowledged the request and slumped against Hermione when the enchanted phone booth plunged deep underground. The trip lasted only seconds, but each of those seconds was another second closer to death for Bellatrix.

Bodies littered the ground and the smell of smoke and blood choked Hermione's lungs as they exited onto the ministry floor. Papers billowed about everywhere along with ask raining down from the various fires that burned above them. Hermione dragged the ailing death eater toward the center of the antechamber, Bellatrix' blood leaving a snail's trail from the booth. Through the smoke there materialized a gaggle of hooded figures all whooping loudly and seemingly celebrating. At the epicenter of the group stood a proud Lord Voldemort, gripping tightly to the neck of Rufus Scrimgour, the Minister for magic. The man's body hung limp like a ventriloquists dummy, his lifeless eyes trained upon the floor. His face was expressionless, and Hermione found it strangely haunting. The dark lord smiled broadly at the arrival of the two witches and he simply dropped the corpse of the minister on the ground, the head striking the marble floor like a ball with a sickening thud.

The Dark Lord approached the two women clapping his hands loudly. His mouth was curled into a crocodilian smile. "Hermione my dear! You have done it! Already word has traveled and the rumors of the attack are spreading disease like across the land. The muggles have all but concealed themselves within their own homes in fear of attack from some unknown enemy. They are crippled with the fear of a faceless terror. Travel has ceased, the haughty diplomats all blame each other, and best of all, the Aurors are overwhelmed. Before we arrived here, my dear Sir Scrimgour withdrew all of them from Hogwarts, and nearly half from Azkaban to deal with the crisis. To see if it was I who brought pandemonium to the muggles and their queen. And now my friends, he lies dead at my feet. The ministry has fallen, and it is time usher in a new era. An age of perfection and purity unlike anything our world has ever seen.". His red eyes found Hermione's. "And we shall rule over it together...you will be at my right hand." Instantly the room was plunged into a deafening silence. Wormtail couldn't contain the gasp of surprise at the revelation, and Fenrir growled his disdain. "Imagine Hermione...shape the world with your mind..."

"My Lord...". Bellatrix struggled and pulling free from Hermione's grasp, staggered toward the dark lord with an arm outstretched. "But what of me? Am I not your most loyal?"

He waved her off, and the elder witch responded as though she were slapped. "Patience Bella...patience."

Hermione took a step forward, clearing her throat audibly. All eyes trained upon the brunette with her fists tightly clenched at her sides. "While I find your offer tempting, but you know what I want, and I believe I've more than lived up to my half of the bargain."

"Ahh yes. Right, right, right...the phylacteries...such devious little trinkets aren't they? Capable of so much..." Out of nothingness as single phylactery crystal materialized and wafted slowly into the Dark Lord's open palm. With the pads of his thumb and pointer finger, he absently rolled the jewel from side to side as he scrutinized the object closely.

"Let Fleur go. Let all of the half-humans go. Your deed has been done, the Ministry has fallen. Destroy them." _Accio phylactery!_ Her mind focused intensely upon the wretched object but try as she might, she felt a physical barrier in her mind. He was fighting back.

A finger waved in a reproachful manner. "Now, now now...haste never got anyone anywhere my dear.. Your Fleur, such a delicate flower indeed...possesses so much...potential. I have never seen a true Veela with my own two eyes...that monstrous transformation. An untapped source of power at my disposal."

The cold hands of betrayal wrapped its fingers around her throat. Rage burned within her. "You wouldn't _dare_." She took another step forward, leaving the whimpering Belltrix behind. "Let. Her. Go."

"I suppose it would be most discourteous of me to consider such a thing with your beloved. After all, you have done so much for me...but I am coming to find that our dearly departed minister was on to something here when he created these phylacteries...imagine one of these crystals on the neck of every blood traitor and mud blood in all of England...total and complete control...oh my dear, I would be remiss if I gave up such a utilitarian method of control!"

"No! Destroy them! You don't need these, get rid of them!" Tears burned her already blood shot eyes as she pulled out her wand. Aiming it at the Dark Lord he simply stared down it's tip and laughed.

"And what pray tell are you going to do with that? And the question that begs to be asked is why do you care? Suppose I only destroy the crystal about your Veela's neck? What then?"

"You selfish monster! Destroy them now!"

The Dark Lord let out a loud laugh that echoed through the cavernous hallways of the Ministry building. The reverberations caused some windows to shatter, the glass shards falling like rain. Abruptly the laughter ceased and with a vicious swipe of his hand, Hermione found herself dangling by the collar of her shirt before his glowing red eyes. "Selfish? Monster? Don't be so foolish child, the only monster I see here...is_ you_. Casting aside all that you once believed in, in order to help bring me to power and by doing so condemning an entire group of people to inevitable oppression. And you did it all in the name of something so incredibly egocentric as love. Now is a most inopportune time to go down the righteous path...after all that you've done. All of the pain that you've caused. And I have grown weary of your indifference to our cause. And for that you shall suffer..._CRUCIO_!"

Before she could react, the bolt struck her square in the chest knocking her to the floor as though she had been punched by a fist.

Everything turned white. She could feel her skin being pulled from her bones. Redness exploded from behind her eyes as an otherworldly pain overtook her small body. Images flooded her mind.

Cleavers, knives, syringes.

Sharpness.

Suffering.

Acid.

The bite of cold metal across hot flesh. Pain. Heat. Fire. Burn. Rip. Stab.

To any observer Hermione appeared to be having an epileptic fit, her body rattling hard on the marble floor, her eyes fluttering, and foamy saliva frothing out from her mouth amid ear-piercing screams. But inside the prison of Hermione's mind, the experience was entirely different. Hallucinations accompanied the searing pain, and Hermione found herself naked and strapped down spread-eagle on an ice-cold metal operating table. Then there was laughter. Slowly looking up, she met the gaze of a man dressed in surgeon's gear with bright red eyes. Voldemort. Clutched tightly in his veiny hands was a grossly oversized scalpel. Terrified beyond measure, Hermione wanted to scream, but could not as she was also gagged. Voldemort cackled loudly and reared his arm back in a high arc.

Then it stopped.

Gasping for air, she found herself in the ministry once more. The Dark Lord circled around the downed girl with a scowl on his face. "It's most unpleasant isn't it my dear? You cast the curse with no thought and little did you know what a good cruciatus entails. Let this be a lesson to you. CRUCIO!"

Suddenly she was back on the operating table and the scalpel was plunged deeply into her torso; just below the apex of her rib cage. The pain was unbearable as the scalpel pierced through skin and muscle before tearing through the precious organs that lie beneath. Eyes went wide in horror as a geyser of blood erupted from the wound. Immediately the Dark Lord began to drag the scalpel downward toward her hips with a sawing motion, slicing her open like a frog for dissection. Lifting her head to gaze down the length of her torso, she saw that her mutilated innards were exposed; the freshly flayed skin of her abdomen cut open and stretched outward on either side of the table. The simple awareness of the air grazing the pulsating organs sent shockwaves of agony in all directions. Her eyes widened impossibly at the sight, and she watched in utter disgust as the meat of her diaphragm pulsated to draw in the frantic breaths into her lungs; thankfully still contained beneath her intact breast plate. Vomit surged forth up her throat and she started to choke on it. The Dark Lord grinned madly and pressed both of his large hands against her windpipe, crushing it slowly with force. Death was near...and so was...Bellatrix?

"STOP IT! STOP IT! PLEASE MY LORD!" Bellatrix pleaded, effectively interrupting the torture curse. Hermione sputtered and gasped for breath, immediately her hands went to her stomach feeling for any damage...there was none. "She's just a child...she did what you asked of her...let her go. Set Fleur free..."

Voldemort's face warped into a tempest of rage. "Since when have you become such a sniveling minion? This one must learn. And how does the expression go? Spare the rod, spoil the child. " He trained his wand upon the downed girl once more. "Cru-" Immediately Bellatrix threw her body in front of Hermione's, putting the Dark Lord into an even deeper rage. "I don't want to punish you as well Bella...but seeing as you are so eager...SECTUMSEMPRA!"

Slashes suddenly bloomed all over the dark witch's face and body; rivulets of blood running down from the many wounds. Instantly Bellatrix wailed in agony, her hands unconsciously clawing at the lesions. Hermione watched helplessly as Bellatrix' body twisted and writhed about as invisible daggers and knives stabbed her at nearly every possible angle.

"Know that this hurts me...so much more than it hurts her." Said the Dark Lord with a frown, as he watched his hench-woman being filleted before his eyes. "Please...don't make me do this to you both again. There is still so much to be done...lest we forget the boy...and I need you both."

The other Death Eaters however seemed to find great enjoyment at the sight of the manic witch being tortured. In fact the loudest cheers came from the lips of her own husband Rodolphus, who was laughing wildly with a finger outstretched.

Thinking herself to be hearing a donkey braying, Hermione turned to regard the laughing man with utter vitriol. Despite the cacophany of agonizing screams surrounding her, she willed her body to focus intensely on Rodolphus, and the two words were but a whisper. But the feeling that came with it was nothing short of ecstasy.

_avada...kedavra_

The chortling stopped in an instant, and he fell face forward onto the ground. Dead. Voldemort's head whipped over to see Rodolphus crumple and Hermione quickly scrambled to her feet. Before she could regard the rapidly fading elation on the Dark Lord's face, she grabbed onto Bellatrix' blood slick arm and promptly disapparated.

* * *

CRACK! They landed harshly in the sand, with Bellatrix slumped deadweight against Hermione. A few meters away was Shell cottage, smoke steadily rising from it's chimney stack and a few windows lit. Hermione rolled the ailing witch on her back and drew her wand. Bellatrix was nearly unrecognizable, her face looked like raw meat, her clothes covered in gore. Hermione couldn't tell the woman's own lips from the myriad of slashes that surrounded it. Muttering the counter curse rapidly, Hermione willed the gashes to close and heal. After five long minutes, all that remained was the bullet hole in Bellatrix' stomach. She attempted to rouse her godmother, but there was no response. Bellatrix finally succumbed to bloodloss, she was out cold.

Letting out a loud sigh, Hermione rolled back to rest on her haunches. Exhaustion wracked her body, and all she longed for was a bed, and Fleur to curl up with. She wanted to cry; curl up in a fetal position and cry. But the intense heat of her inner outrage seemed to reduce any tears to steam before they could reach her eyes. She had committed murder, and frankly, couldn't give a damn.

"Hello! Who's out there?" A male voice rang through the darkness, and she turned to see a tall silhouette in the front entryway of Shell Cottage. Bill Weasley.

"Lumos.". Hermione held her wand aloft and waved it in a small arc. "Bill! It's Hermione! Please! I need your help!"

"'Ermione!" In the doorway, Fleur suddenly appeared next to Bill before breaking into a full sprint across the sand. Anger vanished at the sight of the blonde. Hermione stood and began to run toward her lover, arms outstretched, and soon they collided in a tangle of arms and kisses. "Oh mon ange what're you doing 'ere! And what 'as 'appened to you?"

Hermione sniffed back a few tears and gestured at the ailing woman behind her.

"'eez 'zat..."

"Bella...she's wounded. She's been shot." Hermione dared not to speak of what had occurred mere minutes before their arrival.

Bill walked over and stood at Fleur's side. His knotted brow spoke volumes as he stood silently regarding both of the injured witches. "You know, I should be calling the Order...after what you've done to my family, to Moody, and now you bring this _murderer_ with you...you know when you told me she was your godmother, I figured you were joking or that you'd never seen her...but now here she is in the flesh, bleeding out on the beach..."

"Bill...I..."

Fleur moved to stand in between Bill and the comatose Death Eater. "Non! Bill please...'elp 'zem...'Ermione knows not what she 'eez doing."

"How can you stand here defending her after she's betrayed us! The Ministry has fallen, just heard it over the wire, and I bet you two had something to do with it." He pointed an accusatory finger at the bleeding death eater. "You-know-who's actually done it. He's won."

"Bill you don't know 'zee whole story!" A tearful Fleur begged. "She 'eez trying to 'elp us! Trying to get 'zee phylacteries destroyed!" Bill's face suddenly softened.

"And I've failed..." Hermione looked up at Bill with an inscrutable countenance. "Bill, there are no words, no excuses for what I've done to your family. Nor for Bella. I was an utter fool, thinking this was the path I should take to free you, Fleur and Kara. I was so, so desperate for a family. For people that loved me...for me. And standing here now, out on this beach, Bellatrix Lestrange included, is the only family I have left...and I've managed to ruin that as well." She ran a hand through her tousled hair. "We have no where left to go...please Bill if you could find it in your heart to allow us into your home for the night...I promise we'll leave by sunrise."

Bill turned to gaze at Fleur. "Well...I leave this to you." Fleur nodded softly. "And what of _her_?"

"I'll disarm her if it makes you feel more comfortable, but know that she has been gravely wounded. She is of no harm to you, or anyone else for that matter."

Bill gazed down upon Bellatrix, absently rubbing his thumb across his chin. "Get her inside." Fleur gazed up at her lover and mustered a half-smile before reaching down to disapparate with Bellatrix' body. Once they were gone, Bill slowly did an about-face and made for the front porch. Hermione gave chase.

"Bill...please believe me...I implore you!"

He whipped around in high dudgeon at the words. "Hermione. See it from my perspective. You helped to ransack my childhood home. How am I supposed to feel?"

"I...I don't know!"

Bill's hands came to rest upon his hips in a gesture of anger. "You don't know. That's just great. How do I know that you won't inflict the cruciatus curse on me too!"

With a sudden surge of vigor Hermione stood close to Bill. "Because unlike the majority of the world, you actually give a damn about me!" Her arms flew skyward as if the conversation were an object to throw away. "I am fighting for a future. I am aware that mere words will offer no consolation to you now, but at least know that if I could, I'd have done things differently!" She paused to study the elder Weasley's face; it was abundantly clear she commanded his undivided attention. He looked like a deer caught in headlights. "But understand that your family, more appropriately Ron and Ginny, have caused me damage far worse than any cruciatus curse could ever hope to inflict!" She hissed. "And look at yourself, you keep your true identity so secret from them all because you know how they are. You know of their ignorance and how they wouldn't understand."

Bill's lips contorted to further form words but Hermione was faster, silencing him with a palm held aloft. "Don't you dare try to deny it. Look at the lengths Fleur and I have gone to to help keep your lycanthropy secret...especially Fleur. If anyone has suffered the most through this entire ordeal...it's her."

Bill heaved a sigh and his soldiers slackened in defeat. "Shit."

With trepidation, Hermione reached toward the elder Weasley and took a calloused hand in each of her own. Her left thumb traced the edge of a grizzled scar on the top of his larger hand. "I did this to set you and her free. You both are my family. I plan to see this through to the end whether you let Bella and I stay here or not. All I ask is one night."

"Alright..."

* * *

Reentering Shell Cottage was an indescribable experience for Hermione. In these walls was born the most wonderful relationship the young Gryffindor ever had. The gentle lullaby of the breeze and waves ushering nights of wonderful dreams for the two young lovers. Happiness was here. Happiness in the sweet smells of Fleur's cooking. Happiness tucked between the pages of countless books shared in the solitude of the night. Happiness rode the tops of the whitecaps that ebbed toward the shore. Happiness was Fleur Delacour. But now things were different. The walls were suddenly alien, and Hermione shivered with the pervasive cold of the night air. Voices wafted to her ears as she drew closer to the far hallway that led to the study. With calculated steps she made her way toward the voices, unsure of whether or not she wished to learn of what was occurring inside.

Hermione entered the dimly lit room to find Kara and Fleur hovering over Bellatrix' body sprawled out on the daybed. A transfigured set of surgical instruments sat on a nearby nightstand. Kara worked with great precision to extract pieces of the metal bullet that had punctured a hole through the dark witch's torso. Fleur, with Bellatrix' head on her lap looked up to meet Hermione's face with a soft smile.

"Will she be alright?" Hermione asked, her voice saturated with worry. Kara gave a slight nod.

"Hey Herm. Yeah...she should recover, though the damage to her organs was pretty severe. I'd keep a close eye on her, lest infection set in. The bullet only fractured a little bit when it went through her." Kara spoke with confidence as she continued to deftly work, her wand was lit and carefully perched behind her ear.

"Kara...thank you so much for doing this..." Hermione sputtered, the tears were threatening to pour from her eyes.

Kara grinned. "I _did_ attend a muggle medical school in a America before coming here! I'm just glad that my skills aren't rusty. Wanted to be a multi-discipline healer; working with magical and muggle clients...but with the partial human security program, I wasn't allowed to practice, so I was stuck working in an apothecary. I gotta admit, pretty neat to have a fugitive as a patient though!"

Fleur was absently stroking Bellatix' sable curls. The two women had apparently cleaned the Death Eater as there was not a single speck of dirt or blood left on her face and body. Hermione opened her mouth to speak.

Kara interrupted. "And...we are...done!" She stood and turned to face Hermione and arched her back to crack her vertebrae. "Just keep a close eye on her for the next few days, she should not exert herself in any way unless she'll rip the sutures in her torso _and _her back. I didn't have enough dittany to do a complete healing, so the body will have to do the rest I'm afraid. And she will most certainly be in a lot of pain for the next few days, though I'm sure that magic has a solution for that as well." With a loud snapping of her fingers all of the surgical equipment returned to their normal state; a pile of silverware which Kara proceeded to gather up. "No doubt Bill must be pretty upset."

Hermione gave a despondent nod, gazing down at the tops of her shoes.

"Look I'm never one to condone violence, but I...I'm glad at least that no one was severely injured...over the past few days, Fleur has explained everything to me...and I'll admit...I don't know what I'd do if I'd run into the people who tormented me for so long...or what I'd do if I were in your situation for that matter." Kara admitted with a slight shrug.

The brunette tensed visibly as Kara spoke, and once more she tried to choke down the nagging anger in the pit of her gut. Still she could do nothing to stave the internal satisfaction of seeing Ginny writhe under her torture curse. And further, she still wished to '_run into_' Ron. She dared not express the thrill of the killing curse either for that matter...watching Rodolphus fall was nothing short of orgasmic in its satisfaction.

Kara continued, her tone demure. "And I think Bill understands that too...but they're still his family...I'll talk with him about it later."

Hermione turned to face Kara, reaching across the space between them to place a hand upon the woman's shoulder. "Don't worry. Really. We've taken advantage of your kindness enough for one day...We'll be gone by morning." She gave a gentle squeeze.

Kara shot a confused look, her raven hair veiling her face. The beads braided on her head clicked like a metronome as she shook her head. "Hermione...are you sure? I know you were only trying to help us."

"Though Bill acts as if I've already overstayed my welcome..."

Kara prepared to speak once more but Fleur audibly cleared her throat. "Could you excuse us for a few moments Kara? _ S'il vous plaît?_"

"Will Bella be alright?" Hermione asked before Kara could leave; a tiny speckle of hope in her voice.

"Should be. As I said before, just make sure she doesn't exert herself too much." Kara rested upon the doorframe. "Join us for dinner will you? Bring Bella with you. I bet she makes for fantastic dinner conversation..."

"Of course." Once they were alone Hermione gazed back at her lover who was currently wearing an unreadable expression on her face. Cautiously, Hermione approached the frenchwoman before leaning in to kiss her, Fleur did not move."Baby..."

"'Ermione...you...attacked 'zee muggle Queen today didn't you?" Fleur said with a slight growl. "'Zee pandemonium, 'zee insanity 'zat was all _you_ wasn't it?"

"Fleur I..." Her weakened voice suddenly swelled with volume. "Don't play this with me...you knew about it! You knew!" Hermione began to shout, fists balled up tightly at her sides. "You heard it from the Dark Lord's lips!"

"And now 'zee ministry 'eez no more...'zee Dark Lord 'as clearly won, so are we free? Am I free? 'eez all of 'zis worth 'eet? Can we go?" Fleur pleaded. Hermione couldn't help but feel surprise at the lack of anger in the Veela's voice. The young frenchwoman merely sounded exhausted.

Wracked with sobs, Hermione crumpled to the floor. "I failed...he...oh God how stupid I am...what the hell was I thinking..."

Fleur fell to Hermiones side, gathering her lover into her embrace. "I 'zought 'e promised..."

"He's going to use the phylacteries against half bloods and muggleborns...oh god I should've seen this coming.". She started before emitting a high-pitched wail. "Fleur...I may have made all of this even worse..."

"Perhaps 'e can be persuaded?"

"He is hell bent on domination...it'll be like arguing physics with a brick wall."

"But you are 'is family...surely 'e would spare us! After what you 'ave done today! 'Zee entire country 'eez 'een a frenzy! Uzzer nations are calling 'zis an act of terror..."

"And they're right. Terror is exactly what we've accomplished today. And Merlin knows the battle isn't over yet. He's planning to go after Harry. Harry is the final piece to all of this...the prophecy from the department of mysteries predicted it. Neither can live whilst the other is still alive."

"So 'zee dark lord 'eez not at full power yet non?" Fleur offered.

"Seems to be the logical conclusion at the moment. But regardless, he is still a force to be reckoned with, and I am certain he'll call for Bella and I again soon."

"And will you answer 'zee call?"

Recalling her earlier torture Hermione could not suppress the involuntary shiver that ran up her spine like an electrical current. "I don't think I have a choice."

"What 'eef...non, 'eet's crazy..." Fleur thought aloud, her eyes trained upon the rafters of the study ceiling. Her thumb and pointer finger grazed the skin of her chin.

"What?" The brunette probed with sudden avidity.

"Wiz your telekinetic power...and your shared blood, you might be stronger 'zan 'e! What 'eef you take over!"

"Fleur, don't speak such madness."

"'Zink about 'zee possibilities! You can shape 'zee world for us!" Fleur gasped. "'Zat incredible mind of yours! You can bring down your enemies by mere 'zought!"

"I'll likely be vilified...but it does seem tempting. Though I am completely at a loss at how to defeat him!"

"You can't. He is more or less immortal." Came a brusque voice. Struggling to sit upright, a now conscious Bellatrix Lestrange was inching up little by little with her arms, lifting herself off of Fleur's lap. Grimacing loudly all throughout the simple motions, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, and placed her head into her palms, massaging her temples furiously. "I have seen it with my own two eyes. Struck dead on by the killing curse, and he doesn't flinch. Whatever magic that is keeping the Dark Lord alive is old indeed."

The three women sat in silence before a fourth voice spoke unexpectedly. And though only two words were spoken, Bellatrix instantly turned white.

"Bella...darling?"

* * *

**A/N: **If you read my other fic "Stockholm" you'll see that I interpret the cruciatus curse to just be an all out assault on the senses. On the outside we see someone cry out in pain, but on the inside, trapped inside their minds, the victim's worst fears manifest. Whether or not that's what JK intended a good crucio to be like, that's just how I like to think of it. Because just shooting the cruciatus curse blindly has to mean something to be truly unforgivable...and to drive people to madness.

til next time...ttfn...tata for now!


	23. The Promise

Dedicated to my mother, whom I miss a lot. : )

* * *

Bellatrix sucked in a deep breath, her skin going completely pale. "H-H-Helen?"

"Bella my love where are you?" Tucked deep in the veil of shadows the voice came from the portrait hung carefully on the far wall. Fleur grabbed the small tinderbox from the table by the daybed and approached the source of the voice. Helens face became visible as Fleur drew nearer with the light. Helen squinted once Fleur was directly to the side of the frame. Upon her pristine face bloomed a brilliant smile as her eyes fixed upon the frazzled dark witch. "Bellatrix Black...oh my darling it is you! Oh Bella! Dear, sweet beautiful Bella!"

Bellatrix approached the portrait on unsteady feet, fat tears began to well in her eyes as her eyes finally came to regard the tender ones of Helen Gaunt. Standing mere inches from the canvas, her lips quivered as she stared deeply into Helen's painted eyes. Fingertips came to rest upon the contours of Helen's painted chin, and Bellatrix started to whimper. "Helen...oh sweet Merlin...my love…" Bellatrix struggled to form the words as Helen began to cry painted tears of her own. "I-I-I love you…"

"I love you Bellatrix. I still do!"

Fleur in the meantime crossed behind the elder witch and gathered Hermione into her arms. She pressed her soft lips to the brunette's ear, and smiled against her lover's neck. The two younger witches watched the reunion unfold before them, Hermione feeling as though she were bearing witness to a cosmic event.

She felt her heart wrench painfully in her chest as she watched Bellatrix lean forward, pressing her forehead against the brushstrokes of Helen's shoulder. Her right hand rose up to touch Helen's cheek. The sight tore the young witch apart; never had the proud death eater appeared so vulnerable, so desperate for the love she had been denied for so long.

"Bella...you look so different...you look...older. How...how long has it been?" Helens jaw quivered and her eyes scanned the study. Bellatrix removed herself from the canvas, and moved back a few inches, but still she was standing impossibly close.

Bellatrix swallowed hard running a hand through her raven curls. "Nineteen years have come and gone my love...I'm three years shy of fifty."

Helen leant back in apparent shock, her palm coming to rest on her forehead. "Forty seven years old...oh dear..."

"You died...nearly twenty years ago...and now you're here...somewhat...Helen..."

"Oh I am fully aware of my death, I remember it clearly...though how were you able to fetch my portrait from my Vault? There is simply no way Grandfather's lock would have opened for you." Said Helen with a confused tilt of her head.

Fleur attempted to stifle a chuckle at the sight. "You do 'zee same 'zing mon amor...now I see where you get 'eet from!" She whispered in Hermione's ear and the younger witch playfully swatted her in the arm.

Bellatrix smiled broadly. "I didn't fetch your portrait...though someone in this very room did...someone that has been dying to meet you." With that the dark witch turned to look at Hermione, beckoning her toward the painting with a twitch of the neck.

Fleur brought her lips to Hermione's ears. "Go on 'Ermy…talk to 'er...go on…_je t'aime_..." Fleur kissed her once before giving a light shove toward Bellatrix. Her legs moved with the speed of molasses as she slowly made her way toward the portrait on the wall. Heartbeats echoed in her ear as she finally entered the view of the young Grecian maiden in the painting, and the painted woman's eyes grew wide as she regarded Hermione for the first time. Looking directly into her birth mother's eyes caused her breath to catch in her throat, and it appeared that Helen was experiencing the same sensation.

"My God Bella...is that?" Helen began, her jaw moving methodically over each syllable. The woman was completely awestruck. Bellatrix nodded fervently with a broad, tear streaked smile.

The one word that Hermione had longed to utter for so long finally emerged from her quivering mouth in a stammer. "M-m-m-mother?"

One of Helen's delicate hands came to rest on her now heaving chest. "Hermione...?"

Now it was her turn to cry, the tears streaming down her cheeks one after the other. "It's me...Hermione..."

"My little one...you're alive!" Sobs of the purest joy burst forth from Helen. "My sweet, sweet, sweet little one...oh Merlin...you're alive! Though you are not quite so little anymore..." The smile that grew upon her mother's face was among the most beautiful Hermione had ever seen, and the laughter that followed was musical in it's quality. And the young witch couldn't help but chuckle as well.

"No...I am nineteen now mother..."

"Hermione...dear sweet beautiful Hermione...I..." Helen began to stumble over her words. "I have missed so much in your life..."

Hermione reached forward to touch the canvas of the painting, hoping to wipe a tear from Helen's cheek. "It's not your fault..."

"The fault is mine." Bellatrix interjected, gently pulling Hermione away from the picture frame. Her body shivered as she stood before Helen. "Back at the hospital...all those years before…I should've been more assertive...I needed to be at your bedside..."

"Hush dear Bella...what has passed is past. There is no use dwelling upon such terrible things now..." Helen suddenly grew nervous and swallowed hard. "Truth be told…if you were in the delivery room that day...you might not be standing here today either...this portrait would likely be back in my family vault...and well," She turned her head to look upon Hermione. "…who knows where you would end up little one. But there is no need to dwell upon such things. What is important is that our family is finally complete. Though I may not be with you in corporeal form...the immense happiness I am experiencing right now is unlike any other happiness I've felt while I was alive."

"You are in a better place, for nowhere can be as troubled as our world currently is my love." Bellatrix began, her gaze locked upon Helen's. "All of these years I knew that you were watching over me...each night I felt your presence by my bed, and heard your beautiful voice in my dreams...with me always...when Hermione told me of her finding your portrait...I could not bring myself to look upon you in fear that once you learn of what I have become...that you would no longer love me..."

"Bella...you are the love of my life and nothing will ever change that...have you been watching over my little one?"

Hermione took her chance to speak. "She has. She has kept me from harm's way, though I must echo her that you may not wish to hear of what has transpired as of late." Hermione turned to look at Fleur for reassurance, and the French woman gave a nod of understanding and mouthed the words _go on_. "We..._I_ have done something most terrible."

"Terrible? Hermione it pains me to hear you speak in such a way...what have you done?"

"Tonight I have helped to bring a most awful man to dictatorial power..."

"You don't mean..."

"The Dark Lord Voldemort...your..._our_ cousin...sacked the Ministry of Magic tonight...thanks to me…attacking the muggle Queen at her Diamond Jubilee just this morning..."

Helen hung her head, her ringlets spilling forward to veil her face. For a few agonizing moments the woman remained in total silence. Not one of the occupants in the room dared speak as the revelation continued to sink in for the deceased woman. Helen's head with out warning, whipped up, her face had contorted with anger and both Bellatrix and Hermione recoiled at the sight.

"He finally got what he wanted didn't he...even after all these years he still found a way to slime his way into my life...or lack thereof. Bella, Hermione, don't believe for once that I simply died in childbirth...I was murdered by my cousin. Tom Riddle Jr."

Hermione's stomach wrenched painfully inside of her, and instantly she found herself filled with dread, but mostly she could feel that familiar rage building within. The Dark Lord had committed yet another betrayal, one that had been there under their noses right from the very beginning. "M-M-Murdered!" The word was frantic. Bellatrix shook her head violently at the revelation and Helen continued to speak with increased fervor.

"My _bastard_ cousin killed me in cold blood shortly after you were born...I can remember the moments plainly." Helens words were acidic, and spoken at nearly a hiss. "The hospital staff allowed him access to my delivery room since he is my next of kin, and he was there at my bedside all throughout my labor. Once you were born and handed to me Hermione, oh how I was only allowed mere minutes to hold you...he immediately obliviated the staff, and wrenched you from my arms. Oh how you cried, and I couldn't stand to watch him hurt you so! He began to speak at length over how you, Hermione, were exactly what he had wanted. You, no doubt, have inherited my _great_ telekinetic abilities...Once he achieved his great triumph, he said, he would need an heir, a powerful one, and he used myself and Regulus to make you...what he did not count upon was my love for your Godmother, nor my wish to flee the country with you and Bella before his great war escalated. He had with him a mockery of a book about our family history, penned by himself. He showed me the chapter that was dedicated to myself...and it read that I had died in childbirth. I wanted to scream, I wanted to run, but I was so weak from labor...I was completely vulnerable. He struck me down with the killing curse shortly after."

Hermione wanted to scream.

Fleur appeared as though she was going to faint.

Bellatrix was thrown into a rage, grabbing a nearby vase and smashing it against the wall with a vicious arc of her arm. Frustration, and agitation painted the now contorted look of anger upon the dark witch's face. Her lips were curled and her teeth bared like a snarling dog. "That swine! That fucking...bastard!"

Fleur scrambled to repair the damage with her wand and Helen heaved a sigh. "Bella...calm down please..."

"All of these years...I believed that the fucking doctor killed you..._shit!_ Muggles. Mudbloods. Oh God. That _book_. That wretched book had a fidelius charm upon it. Nineteen years of being completely unaware that she had even survived. And he dangled it in front of my nose like an ass with a carrot. I trusted him. I worshipped him. I _tortured _and _killed _for him. And now Hermione is up to her neck in this lunacy..." Bellatrix tore at her curls in frustration, stomping around the room. The movements ceased soon after as the dark witch doubled over in pain, snarling aloud as she grabbed at her healing wound in her torso.

Rushing over, Hermione hugged the dark witch from behind, and pressed a cheek to Bellatrix' shoulder blades. Her tears soaked through the fabric of the elder witch's shirt. The muscles beneath began to relax at the touch, and Hermione turned her head forward to speak into her godmother's back. "He duped us both Bella..."

"Betrayal begins with trust." Helen murmured somberly.

Fleur crossed the room toward the huddled women, and she too wrapped her arms around Bellatrix from the front. It was too much for the dark witch to bear, and she fell to the floor, dragging the two young lovers with her. Loudly, she began to sob and her body quaked with the intense emotions surging through her. Fleur gathered the defeated woman and held her in her lap, using a hand to softly stroke the Death Eater's sable curls.

"Per'aps I should take 'er to bed mon amor...she 'as 'ad way too much excitement for one day." Fleur thought aloud and Hermione nodded weakly in response.

"This has been an tremendously rough day for her...". The brunette conceded while looking into the concerned eyes of her mother. As Fleur made to lever herself and Bellatrix to their feet, Hermione halted them for a moment with a hand. "Fleur hold on one moment...mother, there is someone I'd like for you to meet." She pulled the French witch toward her. Bellatrix, having succumbed to weakness had slumped over on the floor in a light sleep. "Leave her for a moment, she'll be alright." Bringing Fleur's soft hand to her lips, she placed a tender kiss upon the skin and gazed up at the portrait. "Mother, this is Fleur Delacour...my reason for being. She is the love of my life."

"Bonjour Mademoiselle Gaunt."

Helen looked at Fleur with a warm smile. "Oh there is no need for such formality my dear...call me Helen. Anyone who matters so much to my daughter matters to me as well." The Grecian woman gushed. "And your wonderful name…_Flower of the Court_…how fitting and beautiful!"

"Oui. Parlez-vous Français?" Fleur asked with a grin.

Helen nodded her head enthusiastically. "Oui je le veux…pas bien!"

For several minutes Hermione watched in awe as Fleur and the portrait conversed in rapid French, intermittently breaking out in joyful laughter. Through their mirth, they sounded like a pair of chatty songbirds. Her heart swelled with adoration at the sight of her beloved and her mother talking as though they had known each other for years. Soon Fleur turned to hug Hermione tightly and kissed her lightly upon the lips. "She 'eez an utter delight...and will make a wonderful 'een-law...I will leave you both alone for now. I am taking Bella to bed...come find me later...I've missed you mon amor...".

Hermione was still transfixed on the word in-law. "Wait..."

Fleur simply ignored her and winked at the portrait. "Bonne nuit 'Elen!"

"Doux rêves ma puce!" Helen also winked.

The door shut with a gentle click and Hermione was left alone with her mother. She walked toward the frame and gently lifted it off from the wall.

"Where are we going?" A surprised Helen asked.

"Just getting a little more comfortable." Hermione spoke warmly as she made her way toward the daybed, and gently propped Helen's frame against the windowsill. Once she was satisfied with it's position, Hermione sat cross-legged a few feet in front of the portrait. Summoning with her mind, blankets began to wrap around her snuggly, and she smiled back the equally smiling Helen Gaunt.

Newly united mother and daughter regarded each other in silence for a few minutes, studying the features of the other closely. Hermione couldn't help be feel slight frustration, for she ached for Helen to be physically present, to feel her touch, to know that she was in fact alive.

"It's as though I am looking in a mirror..." Helen remarked with a grin finally breaking the silence.

"I feel the same." Hermione concurred, reaching over to touch the painted lines of Helen's face. "Merlin...there is so much I want to ask you...I searched for months to learn anything I could about you, and Bellatrix remained mostly tightlipped...in fact it was not until she shared memories with me via pensieve, that I knew of our..._family_."

"Yes...Bella was never good at disclosing her inner emotion; she was delightfully stubborn...as I hear that you can be as well..." A grinning Helen said knowingly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Fleur..."

"You make her so happy...it is so plain to see on her face...reminds me of myself when I fell in love with Bella all those years ago. And my darling as your mother I couldn't be happier with your choice of a mate. Fleur is nothing short of wonderful. She said that you were each other's destiny…that you give her a reason to keep breathing...I do so hope for a chance to get to know her better."

"What else did she tell you?" Hermione probed with a giggle.

Helen shook her head in an overly dramatic fashion, nearly losing the Grecian tiara perched upon her crown. "Tsk tsk, I promised not to tell. I shall take it to the grave...oh wait a tic, I'm already there!"

"How terrible mother!"

Helen could only laugh at her daughter's incredulous tone. "You can't deny me a bit of humor at my situation my dear...just trying to bring some levity...I am sorry to have awoken at such a terrible time for you."

"I wish you were here...as in _alive_ here. Merlin knows that I've needed you for so long and I never knew it until recently. This past year has been nothing short of tumultuous...I discovered my true identity."

"What happened love...please tell me..."

"Merlin...where to begin!". She descended into the events of the days and months prior, her voice filling with vigor at certain points of her story. Tears flooded her eyes as she recounted denouncing the Grangers and Fleur's confession of love occurring in the same night.

"I should like to thank the Grangers dear. Though you feel resentment toward them, they raised you well, kept you clothed and fed. They meant well my love. They loved you, and I bet you that they still do…" Helen remarked amid Hermione's tale. The younger witch could only roll her eyes before Helen admonished her. "It's the truth my darling and you know it. But please do go on…"

Helen listened with rapt attention when Hermione grazed the topic of her telekinetic powers and her intense training. Helen scolded her for her fight with Pansy Parkinson, but right away grinned like mad when Hermione spoke of Bellatrix' keen disguise as Mrs. Granger. And the great Professor McGonagall fell for the charade hook line and sinker.

The air in the room grew tense as Hermione began to speak of the Dark Lord, the raid on the Burrow, the Jubilee, and finally the betrayal. At the mention of the cruciatus curse being cast upon her daughter, Helen's jaws twitched.

"Torture...raids...and you're telling me that Bellatrix has been doing this for years?"

"She swore fealty to the Dark Lord and became a Death Eater after you died...believing that muggle negligence was the cause of your death..."

"He preyed upon her sadness, and yours as well."

"As we speak Bellatrix remains one of the most feared people in all of England...she spent over a decade in Azkaban."

"No! I refuse to believe that Bellatrix Black would do such a thing...torture...murder...Merlin. Imprisoned in Azkaban…"

Her shivers were nearly epileptic in their severity as Hermione made her confession. "And I am no better. I have committed murder just a few hours earlier..."

"Hermione...you jest."

She shook her head in a despondent manner. "I killed Rodolphus Lestrange." She swallowed hard. "And...I don't regret it for a moment...Bellatrix is dying mother..."

"Dying!"

"She grows weaker by the minute, and I believe she is fully aware that she may not have much longer to live if she carries on the way that she has been. She has been shot by muggle soldiers just this morning...and tonight she was slashed over and over by the Dark Lord until she was unrecognizable...so much blood...and that pig Rodolphus, he had the gall to laugh at her suffering. And I had to punish him...I haven't told Bella or Fleur yet…"

"I never liked Rodolphus. Never liked the way he treated my dear Bella, or people in general, but even he does not deserve death for it, especially by your hand. Unlike Rodolphus and the Dark Lord, you are not sustained by hate. You are better than he is."

"But that's where you are wrong. I_ am_ full of hatred. Not even a year ago I learned that everything I once believed about myself was a lie...no longer would I be Hermione Jean Granger, a muggle born. I learned that I am Hermione Athena Gaunt, a pure blood...heir of Slytherin, a relative of the Dark Lord himself...that I have a birth mother...a Death Eater godmother...I fell in love, and that love is spat upon by people I once loved and trusted…I discovered these..._powers_...I fall for false promises...and in the end...I'm nothing but a _**monster**_. _**A MONSTER**_!" She choked on her words. "People are going to suffer...and it's my fault. Harry is going to die. Many more people will die. And their blood will be on my hands!"

"Hush my darling...hush...now tell me...what did he promise you?" Helen probed cautiously.

"Freedom. For Fleur and I. For all partial humans. Fleur, and people like her have been kept in bondage under the tyranny of the Ministry for far too long. And so at my most vulnerable, a deal of sorts was struck between myself and the Dark Lord."

"Her freedom for the use of your telekinetic ability." Helen completed the thought.

"How did you..."

"Hermione, my sweet little one, in the same fashion as the Gaunt men before him, Tom Riddle Jr. Is incredibly egotistic. He revealed his entire plan to me moments before he ended my life. He chronicled his plan to use my child's powers one day, to pit them against another child of light that had yet to be born. You are the antithesis to this supposed chosen one...whom I can only assume is this Harry you speak of."

"Harry Potter! He's..._was_...my best friend." Hermione looked down at her palms.

"Potter…yes the child of James and Lily! I remember them both from Hogwarts! Tom prattled on and on about a prophecy, and that he was nervous that his dreams of grandeur might not come to fruition, but he had a plan of insurance for this...he was going to craft a horcrux."

"A what?"

Helen's tone was deathly serious and her gaze could've bored holes through metal with it's intensity. "A horcrux. A remarkable, yet exceedingly evil object of ancient magical quality. To put it in simple terms, it is a vessel in which to store a fragment of one's soul. So as long as the horcrux itself remains intact, the witch or wizard who crafted it can persist; even if their corporeal form is destroyed."

"But what _is_ it?"

"Ahh therein lies the genius of it all. A horcrux can be anything tangible. Any object. And it is made through a murder of significance, as it is an act so terrible, that the murderer's soul will literally rip itself apart...in this case, the Dark Lord killed his own flesh and blood...me."

Hermione leant forward with great interest. "Which object did he use for a vessel?"

"My Aunt Merope's locket...he wore it around his neck. It was a most revolting thing."

It was all a very simple equation and Hermione verbalized her conclusion aloud. "So as long as the _locket_ is in tact...he is immune to death!"

Helen nodded. "Horcruxes were an integral part of my research. Many telekinetic wizards dabbled in the dark arts. And my dear cousin did his research too it seems. My death was the catalyst in order to make the locket into a horcrux."

"Do I just…smash it?"

"Of how to go about destroying it, I am unsure. I wish I could be of more help my darling…but I am growing weary over talking about my demise…can we speak of other things? You must understand that I am meeting my daughter for the _second_ time, and I find her to be quite an enigma! The scholar in me wishes to learn so much more! But our first conversation has just been so…depressing." Suddenly, before Hermione could speak, Helen began to hum a low melody to herself before breaking out into song; her singing voice thick with soulful vibrato.

_Gather 'round me, everybody_

_Gather 'round me, while I preach some_

_Feel a sermon comin' on here_

_The topic will be sin_

_And that's what I'm agin'_

_If you wanna hear my story_

_Then settle back and just sit tight._

_While I start reviewing…_

_The attitude of doin'…RIGHT!_

Helen started to snap her fingers like a snare drum and she bobbed her head in rhythm. And the younger witch found herself doing the same

_You've got to ac-cent-tchu-ate the positive!_

_E-lim-i-nate the negative!_

_And latch on to the affirmative!_

_Don't mess with mister inbetween!_

_You've got to spread joy up to the maximum._

_Bring gloom down to the minimum._

_Have faith, or pandemonium's_

_Liable to walk upon the scene._

_To illustrate my last remark_

_Jonah in the whale, Noah in the ark,_

_What did they do, just when everything looked so dark?_

_Man, they said, we better:_

_Ac-cent-tchu-ate the positive!_

_E-lim-i-nate the negative!_

_And latch on to the affirmative!_

_Don't mess with mister inbetween!_

When she finished, Hermione began to applaud enthusiastically, albeit quietly. "Oh mother I've inherited so much from you, but I sure couldn't hope to sing like you!"

"With a little practice dear, anything is possible. _Promise_ me that from now on, you'll _ac-cent-tchu-ate_ the positive my dear! Tell me everything about you! Spare no details dear!"

Hermione could not suppress the broad smile that erupted on her face at the words. "Well, what would you like to know?"

The questions flowed forth like a river and Hermione was finding no issue in obliging her mother's endless curiosity. Throughout their conversation Hermione came to find she had much in common with the young woman in the portrait; her facial expressions, her gesticulations accompanying each story, even so far as their eating habits, as Helen expressed her disdain for adding anything to her coffee or tea. Hermione's heart swelled and ached at the same time as she heard Helen recount funny stories about her time with Bellatrix. She daren't think on what her life would be like if Fleur were to be hastily ripped from it as Helen was from Bellatrix' Though in the same vein, the simple fact that Helen's adoration for the Death Eater survived something so terminal as death was a comfort. Eventually Hermione felt herself drifting off into slumber, the ravages of the immensely long day finally getting to her. Helen simply smiled.

"You should be sleeping my love, you have endured much more in one single day than many people endure throughout their entire lives. And I find myself in awe of how grown up you are…but underneath it all, you are still so young, and so vulnerable all the same. You are entitled to cry. To be scared. Don't think you are obligated to carry the weight of the world upon your back at all times my love. That is too much for any one...So please sleep my sweet little one. Dream...Do not worry. I will still be here when you awake…unless my frame is knocked to the floor of course...or if it decides to sprout legs and walk away."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione gave a sleepy laugh and tiredly rubbed at her nose.

The woman in the painting gushed at the simple motions. "Oh that is so cute! I have such an adorable daughter…"

"Stop it mother…you're embarrassing me."

"And apparently I have a moody teenager as well…but all joking aside, go to Fleur my dear…she needs you. Good night my darling…pleasant dreams." Helen reached up to wipe a small tear from her eye. "It feels so good to finally say those words…" She whispered.

"And it feels so good to hear you saying them to me…" Hermione stood slowly; drowsily grasping the frame, she crossed the room to return Helen to her perch on the wall. "Good night…mother."

"I love you my little one. Always." Helen softly cooed and the brunette's heart suddenly grew tenfold. The words were so sincere, so loving in their tone it stopped Hermione dead in her tracks for a moment.

"I love you too." She said with a small yawn "…good night."

* * *

She took a quick shower, cleansing herself of the day. Entering the living room Hermione found Fleur curled up in a ball on a bed that she had apparently transfigured one of the couches into. She surmised that Bellatrix was given the guest bedroom, and Hermione eased back the covers and slipped in next to the slumbering Frenchwoman. She drew the lithe body against her own with a gentle pull of her arms. Fleur murmured in her sleep before rolling over to face Hermione and gently pressed their lips together in a tired kiss. Hermione rested her chin on the crown of Fleur's head, and the Veela rested her face against the soft skin of Hermione's neck. She wanted to wake her lover, to talk at length about the wonderful feeling of having a mother, but that could wait until morning. The blonde looked so peaceful in slumber, Hermione thought, it'd be a crime to disturb that. The syllables of her name passed through the Veela's lips in a sleepy murmur and Hermione couldn't help but feel all of the pain, the suffering, the confusion of the day wash away at the sound. So long as Hermione had breaths in her lungs, she would keep up the fight for Fleur; the delicate flower that bloomed amongst the darkness in her life. The Dark Lord wasn't going to preen this flower. She would give her life for Fleur without a moment's hesitation. Freedom was still within her grasp. She had made a promise to those she loved, and she was going to uphold her end. Come what may. Fleur stirred against her embrace and it roused from her thoughts. The slight warmth from each breath Fleur drew helped to lull the younger witch into a deep sleep, dreams arriving within minutes of her eyelids closing.

Her sleep continued uninterrupted for an hour until the floorboards creaked loudly under heavy footsteps. Shooting up ramrod straight Hermione scanned the room wildly before out of nowhere a fist connected dead on to the bridge her nose. Pain exploded behind her eyes and she crumpled forward like a rag doll. Muted sounds filled her ears as her consciousness rapidly drained like water through a sieve.

A scuffle.

A scream.

Then there was blackness.

* * *

**A/N:** Yes this is still an AU fic, and yes I'm including a horcrux. Just one. For reals. It was part of my plan all along.

**A/N 2:** The lyrics from "Ac-cent-tchu-ate the Positive" are not mine. Once again, another amazing jazz standard with a myriad of renditions by various greats. My personal favorite is by Ella Fitzgerald, but I also recommend the Bing Crosby and Andrews Sisters' version as well

**A/N 3:** The title of this chapter is from the opening theme of FFXIII, "The Promise" (lame I know haha) but it is an absolutely gorgeous piano piece that I think could accompany any loving scene of this nature. It's been added to the 'fic-track' linked on my profile, and even if you haven't checked it out at all during the course of this fic, I encourage you to at least listen to how beautiful this song is.


	24. Building Steam with a Grain of Salt

"Hermione!"

She squirmed on top of the cushions, and groggily clutched at her throbbing head. Pain coursed behind her left eye socket, and her mouth felt as though it had been stuffed full of cotton.

"Hermione get up!" It was Helen, shouting at her from across the room and the brunette's eyes struggled to focus upon the source of Helen's voice before spying her mother standing inside a painting of a forest that sat above the fireplace. Helen's expressions were of grave concern as she continued to yell for her daughter's attention.

Hermione became confused. "How'd you get in there mother? Don't you know that it's much too early for a hike." Hermione's voice was drunken in quality, as was her appearance; for her hair, encrusted with blood and sweat, was matted against her head. As her skull lolled about her neck she slowly began to regard her damaged surroundings; glass littered the floor, furniture had been overturned and muddy boot prints and handprints dotted the floorboards and walls. A single bloody handprint with fingers that appeared to be dragged was near the front door, which was only just hanging from its frame by a single hinge.

"Darling! WAKE UP! FLEUR IS MISSING!" Helen let out a tremendous screech with both arms held out stretched above her head.

At the mention of her lover's name her thoughts rapidly became lucid, and her stomach twisted into an excruciating knot at the realization that something very, very wrong had happened at night. "What the…"

"I've been trying to wake you for the past few hours! They…they-" Helen was out of breath.

Suddenly she was interrupted when Bill, Kara and Bellatrix rushed in from opposite sides of the living room, and each wore an equally shocked look upon their faces once they saw the damage.

"What the hell happened in here! What did you do to my living room!" Bill stomped toward Hermione upon the bed and thrusted a finger at her chest before gesturing heatedly at Bellatrix. "I knew it was a mistake to let you both in this home. Where is Fleur? What have you done!"

Bellatrix grew incensed at the accusations. "Still your tongue _Weasel_. I have been asleep this entire time. I am just as in shock as you are at all of this wanton destruction!" Bill was unconvinced.

A shouting match ensued between the elder Weasley and the Death Eater. Expletives were hurled left and right before wands were drawn. At this moment Helen shrieked at the top of her lungs from the landscape above the fireplace. "STOP IT! BOTH OF YOU! Listen to me!"

Bill blinked with shock at the sound. "The painting of your mother…" He shot Hermione a flabbergasted look. "She's awake!"

Helen spoke rapidly, her gaze never leaving Hermione still sitting upon the bed. "Several men broke in late last night. I heard the scuffle from my perch in the study, and followed them through the frames into here. They had made a bit too much noise, and once you had awoken, one of the men punched you my dear knocking you out cold. They bound Fleur and apparated away with her, not before she put up a fight of her own. I couldn't get anyone's attention, and Hermione has only just awoken mere minutes ago!"

Bellatrix took a step toward the landscape and touched Helen's hyperventilating figure with an outstretched hand. "Calm down Darling, tell me, who were these men, did you get a good look at them?"

Helen nodded. "One was a rather piggish-looking fellow; small, hairy and timid. The other was the exact opposite, bulky, burly and I am quite certain he had _fangs._"

"Greyback." Bellatrix and Bill said in unison.

Hermione still remained frozen and reticent on the bed, coolly rubbing at her swollen nose and black eye. Her brain was still hazy, grasping at straws while trying to comprehend what Helen was saying. "Fleur? Where is Fleur?" She blindly groped at the bed sheets, feeling for her lover's form. Once she neared the edge of the bed she fell face forward over it, banging her forehead on the floorboards and tumbling into a ball. Bellatrix ran to her side, as Hermione doubled over clutching at her now throbbing head. "_Shit!_"

Kara clung tightly to Bill's arm, her mouth agape with fear. "Why did they do this?"

"Why else? To get to Hermione." Bill's tone was terse as he stared off at nothing in particular.

Bellatrix shook the girls shoulders harshly, an attempt to rouse her from her anger, but Hermione swatted the older woman away with a whip of her arm. "Get off of me. Now!" Levered to her feet Hermione turned her head up to stare daggers back at the other occupants of the room; her mother in the nearby painting included. "Where. Is. Fleur?"

Helen cowered from inside the landscape over the fireplace as though she was about to be slapped. "She's gone darling…they took her."

"Greyback and Wormtail most likely." Bellatrix snarled and sniffed the air. "I can just about smell the foul creatures from here."

Clearly ignoring them, Hermione cupped her hands around her mouth and began to shout loudly. "Fleur! Fleur where are you!" She started to run from room to room calling out to her lover and each time that her cries were met with silence her heart only began to throb harder. Bill and Kara could only shake their heads in a despondent manner and Bellatrix gave chase, albeit slowly and from a distance, but Hermione ignored her as well. After ten minutes of frenetic searching Hermione sequestered herself inside the bathroom, slamming the door and falling back against it. The tears flowed freely as she came to the realization that Fleur had indeed been kidnapped. Snatched right from her arms. "I'm so foolish." Hermione chided herself, grabbing a fistful of hair on each side of her head. "So, so goddamn stupid!" Sobs quaked her body, and she pulled at her curls, ripping several strands out from her scalp.

Frantic knocking came from the opposite side of the door, and she could hear Bellatrix' muffled cries but cared little for the words being said. It was over, she thought. Her mind reeled over what could possibly be happening to her lover at that very moment, Fenrir had her, and she remembered the predatory way in which he looked at Fleur. Each thought that crossed Hermione's mind was progressively worse than the one before. Rape. Torture. Dismemberment. Death.

"Open the damn door!" Bellatrix shrieked after a burst of vicious knocking at the door.

"Fuck off Bella!" Hermione snapped back and right away there was silence. Getting to her feet Hermione crossed the tiled floor to face the mirror. Staring back at her was an entirely different person. Though she had grown slightly taller over the years, she could still see the youthful face of Hermione Granger, hidden underneath the hardened layers of Hermione Gaunt. She reached up with a hand to trace the pronounced cheekbones of her face in the glass, and the rim of her sunken eye sockets, one of which sported a furious contusion around it. Her unruly hair no longer had its old fullness as it now hung flaccidly down her head. She turned to the side and lifted her shirt a little to reveal the xylophone of her ribcage. The skin around it was so tight against the bones, a finger could fit snuggly between each one of her ribs. "Look what you've become…" she murmured to the girl in the mirror. "A shell. That's all you are. He took everything from you. Friends. Family. Now she's gone. There's nothing left of you." She wanted to cry, but nothing would come from her tear ducts. Despite her crying moments prior, her eyes were in fact painfully dry; devoid of any moisture just as she was devoid of any emotion. She was drained. It's over.

Her eyes wandered to a glittering object on the counter top; Bill's razor blade. Immediately she whipped her head back forward to face the mirror. No, she thought, not that way. Reaching into the liner of her bra, she produced her wand and with a quivering arm, aimed it at the mirror. The nerves wracking her body were so intense she bit down on her lower lip so hard it drew blood. Sweat beaded on her forehead and rolled down the slope of her head, stinging her lachrymose eyes. "G-g-good bye Fleur…"

Suddenly the door was ripped from its hinges, revealing Bellatrix standing in the frame with her fists clenched tightly at her sides. The dark witch only needed to survey the scene for a matter of seconds before realizing what was about to happen.

Hermione regarded the intruder for a moment before looking back at the mirror. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

With blistering speed, Bellatrix sprung in the air and collided with the young witch, knocking their bodies hard into the tile floor. The green bolt reflected off the mirror and bored a blazing hole directly through the wall that remained smoldering after the bolt had faded away.

"You _weakling!_" Bellatrix screamed, grabbing at each of the younger girl's shoulders, shaking them with vigor. "What in the hell do you think you're doing! Do you really think ending your life will solve anything!"

"Living hasn't solved anything either!" Hermione growled through gritted teeth. "All of this is my fault. What the hell am I supposed to do! I have no family, save for a murdering psychopath, all that's left of my mother is a talking picture frame, Fleur could be dead, I've doomed the world as we know it…every time I try to make things right, it just explodes in my hands. I'm done."

"So that's it then." The elder witch spat. "You're just giving up." She stood to her feet before eyeing the young with acid. "You're no goddaughter of mine, pathetic wastrel. You disgust me." Bellatrix turned to leave before she was halted by a deafening crack. Whipping around she saw Hermione standing mere inches away, breathing heavily through flared nostrils. To her left was a fist shaped hole in the wall, and she could see the younger witch clutching her right hand with her left. The skin of her knuckles was torn and bloody, a mottled pallet of black and blue began to bloom. Heat rushed to her cheeks as Hermione stared down the Death Eater, anger threatening to cause her to snap once more. Tension filled the small room as a smile carried the corners of the dark witch's lips upward, followed by mocking laughter. "Struck a nerve have I? What ever will you do about it?" Came the arrogant response. "Go ahead. Finish what you started. If you've got the nerve."

"Fuck. You."

The laughter continued. "DO IT ALREADY! I'll gladly bring your body to the Dark Lord if it'll please you. Hand him yet_ another_ victory achieved by _your_ hands."

Without warning, Hermione drew back her bruised fist and sank it deep into Bellatrix' jaw, sending the elder witch sprawling back a few steps. Bellatrix gaped up at the brunette in momentary shock, rubbing at her now split lip before renewing the derisive mirth; her blood stained teeth were bared while she howled like a hyena. "Pathetic!"

Muscled tensed as she pulled back for a second blow. With the speed of a viper, Bellatrix ducked out of the fist's trajectory and made to grab for the younger witch's elbow, twisting and pressing it hard into her back. A knee connected brutally into her stomach, doubling Hermione over. Soon she found struggling to be useless as the wounded woman had enormous strength Hermione was completely unaware of. The laughter stopped and silence fell like lead upon them both. "Now you listen to me, and you better listen good." Bellatrix twisted Hermione's arm at an impossible angle, causing pain to radiate from the hyper-extended elbow. "Offing yourself is the last thing you need to be doing. I know you're upset, and I don't care. Right now the love of your life is in danger and the only person who can possibly hope to save her is busy trying to kill themselves. Though it seems things are dire, you are _not_ alone. Up until I met you no one cared about me. My one chance at love was pried from my grasp all those years ago. I became a monster, hated by all, and loved by none. Then you came along. You trusted me, believed in me, and shit…helped me find love again. To give up now before your finest hour would be utter foolishness. Pick yourself up. Get angry. Get yourself together. Voldemort has harmed our family for the last time, and it's time he answered for his crimes."

Rage consumed Hermione's thoughts as she processed her godmother's words. The harsh reality dawned upon her that Bellatrix was right, suicide was weakness, though the firestorm they were about to find themselves in, might be suicide in it's own right. She watched mutely as Bellatrix twitched for a moment and looked down upon the throbbing tattoo on her forearm. A wicked smile grew across her face as her charcoal irises met Hermione's.

"It's time."

* * *

The Dark Lord was pacing furiously before the great fireplace of the Malfoy Manor while being watched by several of the Death Eaters. Wormtail was shaking nervously, rapping his fingers together.

"Will you kindly stop that…" Voldemort hissed as he came to regard the small man.

"M-m-my L-l-lord we d-d-did as you asked!" He stuttered while stumbling back against the wall in utter fear.

The Dark Lord's anxious voice was as smooth as oil. "Patience Wormtail. All will be fine in a matter of hours. This madness is nearly at an end."

_CRACK!_ Bellatrix and Hermione appeared on the far side of the room, instantly grabbing the attention of Lord Voldemort, who crossed toward them in several wide strides..

"Ahh Bella, Hermione, how nice of you to join us. I was beginning to think you had renounced our great cause."

Bellatrix began to walk toward the group by the fireplace with a rigidity in her step, and her hands were tucked into the pockets of her cloak. Hermione followed in kind and stayed near to the Death Eater. She patted the left pocket of her jeans for a moment, feeling for a square object. Helen. Shrunk with a simple reduction spell, Hermione wasn't going to leave the woman behind.

The two women came to a halt before the Dark Lord. "Oh Hermione, what has happened to your face?" Instantly she could hear several sniggers coming from the shadows. Turning her head, she could see the forms of Fenrir Greyback and Rabastan Lestrange materialize, each of them sporting demonic grins on their faces. The Dark Lord cleared his throat to command her attention once more. "Dreadfully sorry about that, but there is something you need to see. Follow me please." He approached the two women and took each of their wrists in his hands before apparating them away. They landed in the dank cellar of the Manor that was bathed in darkness save for a few dying candles littered about. "Follow me."

A sense of foreboding washed over the young witch as she followed the serpentine man, behind them walked Fenrir and Rabastan, each audibly cracking their knuckles in a menacing manner. They stopped before cast iron bars containing two shadowed figures. Rabastan, still giggling menacingly, extended his wand forward. "Lumos"

Bellatrix let out a loud gasp, her hands clamping tightly over her slackened jaw.

Blonde hair reflected in the faint light, and Hermione had to stifle the urge to vomit as the sight materialized before her. Shackled to the wall Fleur sat upon her bruised knees, her nightshirt torn in several places. A gag was wrapped tightly around her mouth. A chain on her ankle led to another body, crumpled on the floor and faintly breathing; Narcissa Malfoy. Narcissa too was dressed in tattered rags, but she her skin was raw with slashes and claw marks. The woman had clearly been beaten recently; blood steadily oozed from her myriad of wounds. They looked as though an animal had inflicted them. Looking back at her lover, Hermione's eye followed the trail of bloodstains on Fleur's body until she could see two large spots on her shoulder blades, where her shirt had been torn. She had transformed. Fleur struggled against her bonds, her face wide with despair. Muffled screams erupted from her throat as she tried to stand but the attempt was futile as she slipped on the blood soaked floor, falling hard onto her shoulder. Hermione winced at the sound of the flesh connecting with the floor, but she was hesitant to show any severe emotion at the moment, and her stony gaze belied the powerful yen inside to scream and run to the wounded women.

"Wormtail has proven himself to be quite resourceful, recalling that Seaside retreat you had been staying at this summer. Since you had the audacity to take something of mine, I have decided to take something of yours."

Bellatirx shot Voldemort a quizzical look. "What are you talking about my lord?"

"Oh dear Bellatrix Lestrange…or shall I say…Bellatrix _Black. _Your little girl here killed your husband nary a day ago."

Rabastan snorted from the shadows. "Little _bitch._"

Bellatrix whipped her head around to look at the young witch, who merely gave a shrug. "He deserved it." Hermione deadpanned. Bellatrix smiled wickedly before breaking out into gleeful laughter.

Rabastan immediately made to grab for Hermione in a sudden fit of rage, but the Dark Lord was faster, sending the man sprawling backwards with a stunning spell. "Still your hand Rabastan. Perhaps you'll get a chance to avenge your brother's death…should I deem you worthy of it. But for the time being, this _little bitch_ is of much more importance to me than any of you." Disapproval was obvious in the Dark Lord's tone as he turned to face Hermione and chuckled. "Such a delicate creature…" He gestured toward the trembling woman shackled to the wall.

Out of the corner of her sight, she could see Bellatrix leaning against the bars staring longingly at her fallen sister, a single tear running down her angled face.

"Oh yes dear Narcissa…we needed some fodder."

"Fodder, my Lord?" Bellatrix asked, her face a mixture of confusion and despair. "And where is Lucius…and Draco!"

He gave a slight nod before producing an object from the pocket of his cloak. A phylactery. His skeletal fingers wrapped tightly around it and his eyes closed. Within seconds Fleur descended into a fit, her body rapidly transforming, the bloodied wings beginning to sprout from her back. Her eyes grew feline and her body doubled over. Her wrists twisted painfully in the shackles as she tried to tear her body away from the wall amid the bestial tantrum. She was attempting reach for Narcissa. The soft skin of Fleur's wrists began to bleed from the rubbing of the rusted metal against it, and at the sight of the crimson liquid the Dark Lord released his grip on the crystal. Fleur fell forward limply against her bonds, the transformation halted.

Hermione couldn't tear her eyes from Fleur.

The Dark Lord spoke harshly. "You do know what I want. It doesn't need to be said. Though it would behoove you to retrieve it quickly, for time is running out for your love. Allow me to demonstrate." He trained his twisted wand upon the Veela and a crimson bolt exploded forth, hitting Fleur square in the chest. The effect was immediate, the gag on her mouth could scarcely contain the macabre scream erupting forth. She twisted and writhed against her bonds, her body contorting in impossible angles. Hermione could barely stand to watch before her defenses were finally leveled.

"STOP IT! STOP!"

The screaming stopped, followed by a soft thud of flesh on the stone floor. Fleur was slumped forward once again, her head hanging loosely between her shoulder blades.

"Every hour that passes and you don't deliver, Fleur will find herself another step closer to death. At midnight she _dies. That_ is a promise." With a deafening crack, he apparated away, leaving Bellatrix and Hermione alone with Rabastan and Fenrir.

"Mmmmermione…mmndont do mmeet!" Fleur screamed against her bonds.

Another bolt stuck the blonde, this time cast from Rabastan's wand, and her screams roused the elder Malfoy from her unconsciousness. Fleur's shackles tore away from the walls with her seizures, causing her to fall to the ground in a heap. Immediately Narcissa clutched the bloodied Frenchwoman in her arms, and she looked at the group of people watching them through the bars. At the sight of her sister Narcissa called out, "Bella! Help me…please…" The words trickled into frailty.

Bellatrix pressed herself against the bars, before turning to face Hermione. "You heard him. Get going. Now."

Hermione nodded and apparated away.

* * *

She appeared next to a lone park bench next to a small playground. She stumbled forward a few steps before collapsing into the grass and breaking out into loud sobs. Instantly she felt a warmth on her finger, and she gazed down at the silver band.

_Stay calm. Promise me you'll stay calm. You did well back at the Manor. Had you shown any semblance of despair, the Dark Lord would've likely killed Fleur then and there. But that doesn't mean you should take the threats lightly. I will do what I can here, but you know what you must do._

More resolved than ever Hermione steeled herself and stood to full height. She strode out onto the deserted street and with a resolute gait, made her way toward the familiar stretch of brownstone row homes. The rusted street sign read "Grimmauld Place" and Hermione braced herself as the house numbers steadily increased.

9…

10…

11…

13…

Standing at the wrought iron fence, she watched with ever increasing trepidation as number 12 Grimmauld Place materialized before her in an accordion-like fashion. Sitting on the front stood were two people she had hoped to never see again in her life. Ron and Lavender. Ron saw her immediately.

"What in the bloody hell are _you_ doing here!" The demand was harsh and unwavering as Ron stomped down the stone steps, closing the distance between them quickly.

"I need to speak to Harry. Now." She gestured toward the row home, and the response only set Ron aflame with anger.

"You've got to be completely barking to think I'd let you within ten feet of him. Weird how you just show up right after You-Know-Who sacks the Ministry. Wouldn't be surprised if you had something to do with it!" He snapped.

"Let me see him." Hermione was in no mood for this, and it became apparently that there was scarcely room for a diplomatic course of action. "It's important."

Ron snarled. "No way. The Order doesn't trust you. Why would I let you through? Do you think I'm stupid or something?"

"Yes. Very much so. Now let me through." She made to push past him, but he shoved her hard in the chest. He drew his wand and aimed it at her head and Hermione simply glared at him. "What're you going to do with that?" She challenged, and Ron bristled at once, the muscles of his forearms going completely tense. From a distance Lavender began shouting at the two Gryffindors staring each other down. Hermione could not process what was being said since her mind was so fixated upon how obnoxious the shrill voice was.

In a single bout of rage Hermione silently cast the stunning spell, knocking out Ron's feet from beneath him and he crashed to the ground. Hermione broke into a run and made a beeline for the front entrance of 12 Grimmauld Place and she nearly reached the doorknob before her own feet were pulled out from under her, sending her sprawling into the stoop. Her shin connected directly with one of the middle steps, sending a shockwave of agony through her leg. Lavender jumped out of the way and rushed to Ron's side, helping him up to his feet. Hermione too, struggled to stand, anger bubbling underneath with indignation barely contained within. She could hear the scraping of Ron's sneakers against the walkway as he came closer to her. Immediately she stopped moving and focused intensely upon the sound, disciplining her body for her next course of action. The word was on the tip of her tongue, ready to be unleashed upon Ron. Revenge for every sniping comment uttered by his lips. She was ready to torture. To maim. To harm. To _hurt._

But it would not come. An image of Fleur's battered form flashed across her mind, and she opened her eyes. Ron moved to strike at her once more, and Hermione braced for impact. The bolt rocketed toward her.

"Protego!"

"Oy mate! What gives!" Ron shouted watching with great surprise as Harry raced out of the front door and stood in front of the downed girl. "The bloody Queen is attacked, the Ministry falls, and she just happens to show up. Something ain't right here mate!" Ron made to strike at the brunette once more only to be stopped by Harry once more.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry knocked the wand from Ron's extended hand, and snatched it from the air as it flew toward him. "That's enough Ron." The boy-who-lived pocketed the wand and turned around to extend a hand to Hermione, who reached up for it with a trembling one of her own. He gently pulled her to her feet and their gazes met for the briefest of moments before he gathered her into a hug. The simple gesture ignited something within Hermione and she immediately broke down into tears, pressing her wet eyes into the fabric of his flannel shirt. Harry instinctively held her tighter, allowing the emotional release to continue uninterrupted.

He brought his lips close to her ear as he tenderly rubbed broad circles on her back. "'Mione…I'm sorry. For everything."

* * *

**A/N** Yep a short one, but know this, we are nearly at the end! Just a few to go...

**A/N 2:** To anyone disappointed that Hermione didn't rip the crap out of Ron, I am sorry. It's all part of my crafty master plan.

To **TheMe90210**: Excellent question! Honestly, the short answer is, the Fidelius charm placed on Hermione was powerful enough to fool the sorting hat (in my AU). Perhaps I could've addressed it in the earlier chapters as it's a totally legitimate question. And I hear you on the autocorrect, I wrote a few chapters of Monster on an iPad…shudder…


	25. Monster

Just a reminder: this is an _**AU**_ fic!

* * *

Every step was like lead. The floorboards voiced their displeasure as she made her way toward the muted light of the grand dining room. Voices in the distance steadily grew louder as she struggled to approach them. Both of her palms were slick with moisture; the right was gripping tightly to the hilt of a dagger and the left was clamped tightly over her quarry's mouth. He struggled against her grip, but she was stronger, holding him vice like with the dagger pressed against his jugular. Each of his ragged breaths only pressed the edge of the blade harder. She admonished him in his ear with a hiss.

The cold hands of fear and resolve gripped at her as she drew ever closer to the source of the conversations. As recognition dawned upon her victim, he writhed beneath her hold, and she pressed the tip of the knife into his neck. "You better stop."

Stepping into the light, the room was plunged into silence instantly, the occupants mouths all agape at the sight of Hermione fully preparing to slit the throat of Harry Potter.

"Drop your wands or he dies!" She screamed. "I said DROP THEM. Where is the Dark Lord! Call him! Call him NOW!"

Rabastan held his hands up nervously. "Now, now we wouldn't want to go about doing anything rash now would we?"

Harry began to cry out behind her hand, his eyes going wide with terror. Rabastan made to step forward but Hermione pressed the knife deeper. "I mean it. Call the Dark Lord…or I'll decapitate Potter with this knife!"

Gruff laughter was the response to her hasty threat. "Hold a tic Rabastan, something isn't right here." Fenrir Greyback stomped forward; his muddied combat boots kicking up plumes of dust with each step. Hermione swallowed hard but she did not relinquish her death grip on Harry; still holding the knife against his neck with a trembling hand.

"Why're we so touchy tonight little bitch? Why just hours ago you were sniveling and carrying on for that worthless cunt Bellatrix. Now you're making' demands of us? Who do you think you are? Trying to steal all the glory for yourself eh?" He asked with a smile. His atrocious body odor choked her nostrils as he slowly stalked around the two teenagers. "Do it already. Who cares who kills the brat? I'm sure the Dark Lord wouldn't mind…make his job easier eh?"

Rabastan shook his head in disbelief, moving out from near the fireplace toward the werewolf to stand between him and Hermione. "But that prophecy…neither can live while the other survives."

Fenrir waved his arms in a gesture of frustration. "Forget about the bloody prophecy! As long as Potter is dead what does it matter? The Dark Lord's rule can finally begin."

"I was told in order for Fleur and Cissy to go free, I am to bring him Potter. CALL HIM!"

A crack startled the occupants of the room as a plume of fetid smoke whipped wildly throughout the rooms. Other smoky trails burst through the windows and also joined the tempest. One by one Death Eaters materialized, fully cloaked and donning masks, and finally the Dark Lord appeared, his own black hood drawn over his head. "That's enough Fenrir. She has indeed done exactly as I have asked." He spoke in a haunting drawl.

Harry stiffened instantaneously as his eyes locked with Voldemort's. The cloaked wizard addressed Hermione first, a smirk growing on his face. "Ahh my dear…you have done marvelously." Harry's mouth was moving behind Hermione's palm, and she could feel his surprise as he tried to call out her name.

He turned to look at Harry, the smile still not going away. "Regrettably for our friend here, time is running short. I'd like to finish this quickly and painlessly for us all." His skeletal fingers reached into the fabric of his cloak and he began to pull out his ivory wand. Harry struggled once more, and the knife nicked his throat in the process, and blood started to seep from the small cut. Setting her jaw tightly Hermione frowned at the wizard.

"Let me see Fleur free of her bonds first." Hermione demanded, her jaw set. The Dark Lord simply gaped at her before rapidly casting the killing curse, aimed directly at Harry's chest.

_Protego!_ The shield charm deflected the bolt effortlessly, sending it into one of the nearby walls. It left a smoldering hole in its wake.

"You will stand down now!" Voldemort demanded viciously, his upper lip curled against his yellowed teeth. "Let me end him now. I will usher in a new era of purity. And _you_ will be at my side! Hand over the boy NOW!"

"Not bloody likely _Tom_." Helen's voice rang through the corridor, greatly startling Voldemort. He tensed the instant his true name was mentioned and his hairless head whipped to and fro in a frantic attempt to locate the source of the voice. His facial expression was one of recognition; his brow rose impossibly high. Hermione couldn't help but surpress a smile. Though the frame was shrunken, safely stowed in her pocket, still Helen was able to move about the many frames that dotted the walls in the manor

"It can't be…" His lips were slackened. "Helen Gaunt…" The Death Eaters watched in bewilderment as their leader was ostensibly thrown into a panic. "Show yourself Helen! Come out where I can see you!"

"I am already here. I am all around you." Helen's voice moved across the walls amid a chorus of grumbling voices. Out of the corner of her eye Hermione could see her mother pushing and shoving her way through the multitude of paintings that adorned the manor walls.

"This is madness, how are you still alive!" The Dark Lord demanded through clenched teeth, still wildly searching for the Grecian woman.

"Perhaps you did not kill me quite so thoroughly as you believed!" Came the proud retort. Instantly Voldemort locked his gaze upon a portrait directly across from him, where Helen stood boldly in the frame, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. "I find it exceptionally despicable that you duped all of these poor people into following your supposed great cause…especially my daughter and my beloved!"

"_Beloved?_ Don't make me laugh. Bellatrix Lestrange is incapable of love, or even being loved, let alone by you _cousin_. She has served her purpose to me and no longer have I any use for her. I find myself regretting allowing a _woman_ so deep into my ranks." He abruptly snapped while stalking back and forth. "I was foolish to have no killed her the same day I ended you."

"You wouldn't be half the wizard you are now if you didn't have Bellatrix as your most faithful disciple, blindly obeying your every beck and call! You deluded her, and now she finally sees you for the _snake _that you are!" Helen accused and finally the Dark Lord set his eyes upon her. "You only bring shame to the ancient house of Gaunt. And that is quite an incredible accomplishment."

"I don't have time for such nonsense. Arguing with a ghost. CONFRIGO!" Flames billowed forth from the Dark Lord's wand, igniting the frame immediately. It was consumed within seconds but Helen had already moved toward another frame.

"All of you!" She shrieked toward the group of Death Eaters. "Your leader is a fraud! You have all been kept in ignorance to his true nature!"

"_CONFRIGO!"_

"You all say you wish for blood supremacy!" Another frame was ignited. "But little do you see how blind you all are to the truth!" Paintings were lit left and right as Helen moved through them, and all around her, flames began to gradually eat away at the walls of the manor. Thick smoke was beginning to saturate the air. Finally Helen had reached the largest frame of them all; which sat directly above the marble fireplace directly behind the gaggle of Death Eaters. With a commanding voice, she garnered the attention of the group. "The biggest blood traitor of them all stands right before you…Tom Riddle Jr., _halfblood_ born to a _muggle_ father!" She pointed accusingly at the serpentine man.

The Dark Lord stopped his spells and turned to face his followers, who were slowly drawing their own wands. Instantly his face contorted into a snarl. "Stay back all of you! We have made it this far! Do not be turned by the blasphemous words of an inanimate object!"

Silence fell on the occupants of the room, Hermione still refusing to let Harry go.

Without warning the sounds of a struggle could be heard from underneath the floorboards, growing in a rapid crescendo before the wood exploded up from under the dining room table. A great winged creature flew into the room and whipped wildly about in the air. As it flew, blood rained down on the floor from a multitude of wounds. The cloaked Death Eaters immediately ran for cover, diving behind tables, couches and any furniture they could find. The Veela scrambled to her feet, her talons scraping loudly on the wooden floor. The beast shook dust from her head before letting out a vociferous roar. She sprung into the air with her wings unfurled.

"FLEUR!" Hermione screamed as the monster collided with the dark wizard, her unsheathed claws embedding themselves deep into his stomach. He grappled with the Veela for several minutes, trying to push the creature off of him. In the midst of the melee Hermione could see a glittering object slide down his cloak and onto the floor.

_Accio locket!_ She shoved Harry hard to the floor, dropping the knife with a clatter, and her arms stretched out before her to snatch the floating locket from the air. The object was hot to the touch and she could barely grasp it in her palm before switching it to the other. She stared at the accursed trinket for several seconds before the sounds of the fight suddenly grew softer. A flash of red light burst from across the room and Hermione looked up. With a deafening shriek the Veela dove back through the hole in the floor, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. The dark lord stood upon shaking legs, his robes a bloody mess and his face covered in teeth marks. He shot Hermione a look a pure unadulterated hatred before glancing at Harry, who was struggling to stand up.

Voldemort drew his wand and pointed it directly at the young witch. "You and your Veela have spoiled my plans for the last time. Your mother is gone and now you shall join her. Avada—"

Time slowed to a crawl and Hermione braced herself for impact. Her muscles grew tense and she planted her feet firmly to the ground. Staring back at the end of his wand she could see several green magical energies beginning to swirl and congregate into a single beam. Each contortion of his thin lips as he formed the words ignited something within her, and slowly she began to stretch her arm forward, the locket clutched tightly in her hand. Its heat was beginning to sear her soft skin, but she stomached the pain.

The bolt was now careening straight toward her and all around her frightened faces watched the killing curse cover the distance between them. Harry began to shout and charge forward. Helen was also screaming, her hands clutching at her cheeks in a gesture of terror as tears streamed down her face. Resigned to her fate, Hermione closed her eyes and waited.

"HERMIONE!" Harry screamed with an arm outstretched. "NO!"

The locket shattered like glass as the bolt struck it dead on. It knocked her back several feet, slamming her body down hard onto the floor. Her arm that clutched the locket was pulled painfully behind her back, the force of the bolt instantly snapping her humerus in two like a twig. Landing directly on the broken bone, she to cried out in anguish. But the otherworldly screaming of the dark lord, who was thrashing about in pain, clawing at his face, drowned her own screams out. With the horcrux destroyed, age was rapidly returning to his body, every second he appeared more and more like an old man.

Levering herself onto wobbly legs, Hermione watched the weakened Dark Lord move about before willing her body to focus intently on her target. Before she did anything beyond that, however, she deftly removed her godmother's ring from her finger, and grasped it tightly in her burnt palm. Her broken arm flopped back down to hang loosely at her side. She could hear her mother's words echoing in her mind, _a murder of significance…flesh and blood…_She wanted to cheat death, to live forever. And finally the two words themselves, hurtled from neuron to axon to neuron before exploding in a spectrum of vibrant color behind her eyes.

…_avada…_

…_kedavra…_

He immediately clutched at his heart, his eyes impossibly wide with confusion. And the once silver band now glowed a brilliant red in her palm. She slipped the ring back onto her finger.

All while this was unfolding, a long sliver of verdant putrid smoke wafted up from the fading man's throat into the air. It immediately forced itself up into Hermione's nostrils, sending her into a fit of choking coughs. The caustic taste of metal filled her mouth as the smoke permeated throughout her body. Something began to move through her veins; she could feel it wriggling inside of her and an ethereal rage manifested in her abruptly stoic face.

A chorus of ghostly voices filled her head, urging her to take back what is hers. _KILL KILL KILL!_ A migraine instantly formed inside her skull as she clutched at her head in pain. Her jaw clenched impossibly tight. Something was crawling through the folds of her brain as the ring pulsated on her finger. A high-pitched whine drowned out all sounds in her ears, and a thick coat of sweat covered her body. Muscles tensed and relaxed rapidly, and her lungs felt as though they were full of smoke. She grunted in pain as her body continued it's strange reactions. Suddenly the sensations stopped and her head snapped forward, her eyes locked upon the Dark Lord.

Proudly, she strode toward the dying man. The Death Eaters did not move, every one of them completely transfixed in fear as the girl approached their soon to be _former_ leader, and watched helplessly as she promptly kicked him square in the chest to knock him onto his back.

"Hermione…why?" He reached for her shoe with a bloodied hand, but she slapped it away with a sneer, before reaching down with her good arm to take his wand, snapping it in two.

"Your life for mine." She smiled cruelly. "I'm taking back what I've promised. Seeing as though you've got a blatant disregard for familial piety, I fail to see why I should suddenly start giving a damn about _you_…" She twirled the ring around her finger while laughing wickedly before turning to face the shuddering Death Eaters. Holding her arms wide she smiled at them. "Brothers, sisters…we've all been deceived. Too long have you been led astray by this false _prophet._"

A gurgle escaped the snakelike man's lips before he fell limply forward, slumped over on the floor. Dead. At that same instant Harry's scar burned a brilliant white light, before disappearing from his forehead entirely. He idly touched the soft skin with bafflement before looking over at Hermione addressing the assembly of cloaked wizards.

"Pledge yourselves to me, and truly earn the future that you've desired for so long!"

Hermione's eyes began to change, slowly growing crimson in color, and her face was beginning to change as well; her nose going flat against her skull. The broken limb repaired itself as her skin turned increasingly translucent; veins black as oil erupting in a visible network on her arms and neck. Her lips seemed to deflate, and her teeth were now sharpened fangs. Lastly her hair turned into a slick mane of ebony locks. An otherworldly laughter emanated from her throat, as she slowly levitated off the ground, and her scarlet eyes scanned the room before locking on the face of an extremely terrified Harry Potter. Even the Death Eaters recoiled at the sight.

All that was left of Hermione was a monster.

"_You _are all that stands in my way..._Potter._" She rasped in a dry, hollow voice. Instantly she willed Harry's body to lift from the ground by the collar of his shirt; an invisible force brought him closer to her.

"Resist it Hermione!" Harry cried. "Resist! This isn't like you!"

"I am not the one you call Hermione…she is no more." She said with a sneer. Her voice was now an octave lower than normal.

"If you are not she…then who are you!" Helen shouted with confusion.

"I am the one who will forever be. The harbinger of purity. My name…is Salazar Slytherin."

"Salazar Slytherin!" Helen gasped with surprise. "The spirit inside the locket…was it not a horcrux after all?"

"My spirit was _**not**_ in the locket _churl,_ but passed through the blood of your _wretched_ family. My former vessel was weak, arrogant and would not allow me full control…but he has paid his price. Your daughter, by slaying him and crafting this ring into a horcrux, has freed me from my bonds, and cemented me within her. Now with this new, pure body, brimming with powers I could only dream of possessing while I was alive…soon all of you will bow down to me!"

"That ring is driving you insane Hermione, get rid of it!" Harry's response was a stunning spell connecting directly with his abdomen, throwing him back several feet across the wooden floor.

"Who would be so foolish to resist absolute POWER!" She boomed in fury.

"Think of Fleur! What of her! She wouldn't want this 'Mione…think of the summer…the beach…Shell Cottage…your happiness together. This isn't what she'd want Hermione, you are not _you! FIGHT IT!"_

"You DARE to presume what Fleur would desire! I could give her the _entire _English coast should I will it!" She gestured toward the corpse on the floor. "_Riddle_ said it himself." She snapped, her fangs gnashing together with a clatter. "I can shape the world for her and I as I see fit. I will rule over this land and she shall be my _Queen._"

"Put him down Hermione!" Helen's voice rang out from a portrait behind her, causing the young witch to whip around. Tears burned trails down Helen's youthful face, as she pressed her hands against the invisible force containing her within the painting. "Destroy the ring, you're possessed…it's eating you alive!"

"SILENCE woman! The mortal girl is nearly gone!" It came as a guttural bellow echoing wildly through the cavernous manor, instantly quieting the painted woman. "I shall purge the world not just of mudbloods and blood-traitors…but I will purge it of _**all **_who I deem unworthy!"

Fenrir Greyback and Rabastan Lestrange scampered toward her and prostrated themselves at her feet. "Oh great and powerful Slytherin!" Fenrir called out. "We pledge ourselves to you! Give us the boy, we'll destroy him for you!"

"Sh-sh-shall I fetch Fleur for you my lord?" Rabastan stuttered, sweat pouring down his brow. "She's still likely in the cellar dungeon!"

Hermione smiled wickedly at the display, and slowly reached into her jacket pocket to grab for her wand. "That won't be necessary…but your devotion shall not go unrewarded…"

As she drew her wand Harry promptly knocked it away with a hastily cast disarming spell of his own, but it did nothing to stop Hermione from flaying an unsuspecting Rabastan and Fenrir Greyback alive without blinking an eye. They disintegrated into a sickening explosion of gore and blood, the remains of their bodies falling to the ground like hunks of meat at a slaughterhouse. "They were too weak for my new world." Helen screamed loudly in horror as Hermione killed a several of the Death Eaters one by one; Yaxley, the Carrows, and Dolohov. It appeared as though an invisible hand swept across them and knocked each of the cloaked figures face first onto the floor. "Foolish child." Hermione snarled at Harry. "With this body, wands are of no use to me. I…_she_ could kill you with a just thought."

To her right, Harry still thrashed about, held aloft by an invisible force. "I'm not going to fight you 'Mione…DESTROY THE RING! I know you're in there 'Mione!"

Hermione's winced for a moment and her old features flashed across her face. And Harry was instantly dropped to the floor like a ragdoll. "H-h-help…me…it hurts…oh God it burns…ahhh!" She wheezed painfully doubled over, grasping her stomach with both arms. Dry heaves wracked her body, and tears seeped from her eyes.

"Take off the ring!" The portrait shouted. "Darling please…before it's too late!" Tears began pouring from Helen's painted eyes.

Hermione struggled wildly. "I c-c-can't! Ugh! I can't even control my arms…he won't let me take it…I can feel him moving around inside…ahhh!" Images flashed behind her eyelids in rapid fire; she could see everything from the scaffolding of the fledgling Hogwarts castle, to the subtle contours of Fleur's body. A strange feeling washed over her as she experienced a barrage of memories that were not her own interspersed through the contents of her mind. This _thing _inside her was using her. Consuming her. Her body was no longer her own. Willpower slipped through her fingers like water. Still she was nothing but a tool to do someone else's bidding. Fury was overwhelming her rapidly; anger that was not her own. Letting out a wail of agony, the disfigured face reappeared in a devilish sneer.

Suddenly the main doors of the manor burst inward with a loud blast. Through the billowing smoke there in rushed a large group of witches and wizards led by three familiar faces; Remus, Tonks and Ron, each with their wands drawn. Instantly their eyes fell upon the pallid corpse of the Dark Lord sprawled out spread-eagle below Hermione's feet. Her mutilated face had been concealed by the shadows. How the Order found them here, she was unsure, but she was not pleased to see them there.

Remus' face burst into a broad smile at the sight of the fallen Voldemort. "He-he-he's dead! And…Harry's still alive! Amazing! You did it Hermione!" The brunette ignored the unwanted adulation and her eyes focused on the red head creeping toward Harry. Try as she might, she could not stomach the mounting rage that was effervescent at the mere sight of Ron. Remus led a charge toward the living room where the Death Eaters had convened, and immediately the manor was plunged into pandemonium. Debris and wood splintered everywhere, with jets of multiple hues flying in every direction. Despite all of this however, Hermione and Ron simply stared each other down.

Ron studied Hermione's face while beginning to recoil in disgust at her disfigured features. "What in the bloody hell is wrong with your face!"

Harry motioned wildly to Ron. "Leave her alone mate! She's not herself!"

"That _traitor_! You're defending her!" Ron was incredulous, and immediately he fired a stunning spell directly at the possessed witch. She deflected it without even looking at him, and once again Ron found himself dodging his own repelled shot. He rolled across the floor, and Hermione stared daggers at him, her crimson eyes glowing even brighter.

"_YOU!"_ Hermione snarled at Ron. With a hand outstretched and with a simple curl of her pointer finger, she summoned him toward her violently by the neck. "You've caused so much undue pain and suffering. You are but a paradigm of everything that is wrong with this world. I am sick of your arrogance, your flippant attitude, and for that you will become my first recipient of the purge."

In an act of pure defiance Ron spit directly into her left eye, and he fell like lead to the floor, slamming into it with a loud thud. He scrambled toward Harry. "Bloody bitch has gone completely mental. Makes you wonder where the Veela slut is."

"Ron shut up!" Harry hissed through his teeth, verbally reprimanding Ron.

The warning came too late as Hermione swooped down mere feet above Ron's body. "You will swallow those traitorous words wastrel!"

"Oh yeah? You…and what army?" With a sweeping motion he gestured at the multitude of cloaked bodies littering the floor. The threat went ignored as Hermione willed her heart to slow. All around them fights broke out between the remaining Death Eaters and the Order, with jinxes and curses being fired haphazardly in all directions.

Harry's voice had reached a pitch as he watched in terror when Hermione closed her eyes in deep concentration, lowering her body down to stand on the floor. "Ron, start running!" The warning came too late.

_CRUCIO!_

The scream that exploded forth from the redhead's throat was like music. She knew that this was pure agony inflicted on Ron, not a polyjuiced Wormtail, and the devastation that warped his freckled features brought forth an unimaginable wave of pleasure. She began to tremble as she willed the torture curse to continue, and the intense desire to expunge him was mounting by the second. A cold and unforgiving laugh escaped her lips. She took several steps toward him, her mirth inhuman in its intonation.

Ron lay sobbing at her feet and she let out a roar of anger. "Do you feel the pain you've caused me! DO YOU!" He continued to writhe about on the floor; his body contorting in impossible angles. His limbs stiffened as though they have been shocked with high voltage, and Hermione couldn't suppress a whimper of pleasure at the sight. He begged her to stop, but his pleas fell upon deaf ears. She continued to torture him relentlessly until he had fallen unconscious upon the floor. Finally, she was fully prepared to end him once and for all.

A tugging at her shoulder shook her from her concentration. Harry. His pleading eyes stared deeply into hers and her lips curled in a snarl. "What do you want from me!"

He made to grab for her shoulders once more but with an angry swipe of her arm she swatted him away. "I know I gave up on you once before!" Harry shouted. "But I'm not giving up on you now! You're hidden in there Hermione!" He looked frantically from right to left, scanning the faces of the Order and Aurors now sweeping through the mansion.

The real Hermione returned to the surface once more; upon her face a look of pure desperation. "W-w-where is F-fleur!" The question barely managed to squeeze out before a powerful pain inside her chest overtook her. The ring burned white hot on her finger, as she willed the opposite hand to rip it from the digit. "No, you mustn't remove it!" She grunted angrily as she tugged on the band, nearly spraining the knuckle of her finger in the process. "I have come so far…ahhh…" For several minutes Helen and Harry watched as the young witch stumbled across the floor of the manor pulling at the ring, only to instantly jam it back on to her finger. On the inside Hermione fought for the control of her own body. As each precious second ticked by, less and less of her mind was her own.

Helen began to shout once more. "Your family Hermione! Bellatrix and Fleur!" Harry visibly tensed once Helen had spoken the Dark Witch's name. "Think of them! They love you. _I love you_!" Her words were nearly drowned out by the cacophony of violence unfolding around them. Remus had managed to subdue most of the remaining Death Eaters, with the help of several Order members. Incredibly, they were completely unaware of the other battle now taking place within the same room. Hermione's own possessed hands were now wrapped tightly around her neck, choking herself. Harry made to run toward her, only to be caught in the cross fire of a furious duel between some Aurors and Death Eaters. The young witch fought for air, her thumbs embedding deeply into the muscles of her neck. Finally the last of the Death Eaters fell, with several well-aimed shots of the killing curse.

The sound of loud crying brought everything to a screeching halt. Emerging from the basement stairs, a bereaved Kara was sobbing loudly in the arms of Tonks and Bill. Their sudden arrival commanded the attention of every occupant in the room. Kara fell to her knees dragging Tonks with her; the magenta haired woman was also fighting back a few tears of her own.

"_**Dead**_**…She's dead!**" Bill had shouted through the settling dust and smoke, and in that instant Hermione could feel her heart rip in two. An intense sadness gripped at her very soul.

And the ring fell to the floor with a clatter.

* * *

**A/N:** Only **one** to go and this crazy journey will finally be complete. Thank. God.

**A/N 2:** Deepest, deepest apologies if the above was really confusing. Writing this was a bit nuts, must've written and re-written this at least a dozen times. Going into this chapter I thought, what the heck makes Voldemort 'tick'. Why would being a Gaunt be so dangerous for our heroine?

For clarification: Hermione, in an act of desperation, decides to craft the ring into a horcrux of her own. Little does she know that in the killing of the Dark Lord, the spirit of their long lost relative manifests inside her. The spirit helped to guide Voldemort's anger throughout the years. Since horcruxes are such evil objects, and the soul is torn apart while one is made, she is weakened enough for the spirit to possess her. At the very end, the revelation that someone she cares about has died is devastating enough to rouse her from the power that the spirit has upon her. Hope this helps a little. Life has been a little hectic so I might have made a couple consistency errors…but please just be gentle about it when you let me know.


	26. Vanilla Sky

It was like standing on one foot at the edge of a thousand foot precipice. She was teetering. Clutching tightly to her throbbing chest, Hermione sputtered, her kneecaps pressed hard against the wooden floor. The hazy smoke that had mere moments before flooded her entire body, dissipated into the air, and Hermione sucked in a breath, deep into her lungs. Bewilderment consumed her clouded mind that was now returning to clarity. Hands rose to touch the features of her face, and a small wave of relief washed over her that she had regained control of her body. Behind her, Harry scrambled to his feet and rushed to the girl's side, lightly rubbing her back seemingly unsure of what words to offer. He cautiously called her name, but she ignored him. Inside, her diaphragm was quivering in the throes of the most intense anxiety she had ever experienced.

"'M-m-mione…is it you?" Harry gently probed with a slight shaking of her shoulders.

"Yes...I'm...me." Weakly, she swatted him away. The ring lay still on the ground, and still a slow pulsating red glow radiated from it. It was beginning to fade. She did not wish to touch the object, and recoiled from the sight of it.

Bracing herself on the kneeling Harry, she levered herself onto unsteady feet, and began to hobble toward the cellar doors. The Order, assisted by the remaining Aurors apparently completed their sweep of the mansion, and so began the long process of corralling the remaining Death Eaters. However none dared to venture near the corpse of Tom Riddle Jr., that laid upon the ground like a marble statue someone had carelessly knocked over. Kara and Tonks sat sobbing a short distance from her, both being comforted by their respective lovers, but the brunette continued past them, the sounds of their sadness completely muted in her ears. Though she had been temporarily possessed by the spirit of a long dead man, she was now full of something entirely different.

Numbness.

Weakness.

Despair.

Uncertainty.

She was filled with a sense of terrible foreboding as she drew nearer to the cellar door, quietly swinging on it's hinges. Harry followed a few steps behind, and grasped within his arms was a small painting of a cottage on the shore line, Helen within it. The young painted woman stifled tears of her own.

The faint light from the lamps that lined the cinderblock walls of the cellar flickered with the slight gust of humid air from the open door. At once the dank smell of blood and sweat assaulted her nose, and mentally Hermione steeled herself for what she knew was about to happen. Slowly Hermione and Harry descended the stairs, and Harry closed the cellar door behind them with a gentle click. Never before had Hermione's heart beat so much, the pulse of the fragile organ nearly explosive in its strength. As they neared the landing Hermione heard the faint sounds of someone wheezing off in the distance. Harry moved behind her, nearly tripping over the bloodied body of Peter Pettigrew, slackened against the wall. The body was covered with claw and bite marks. He was dead.

"Someone got their comeuppance…" Harry remarked quietly, but Hermione simply ignored him, still taking calculated steps toward the sounds.

"Oh how dreadful…Hermione, darling, come speak to me for a moment…please." The portrait called to the brunette, who whipped around at the sound. "Harry would you be so kind to set me against the wall?" Hermione could only muster a forlorn look, but the Grecian woman simply shook her head. "Just afford me a mere moment please."

Harry propped the frame on top of a nearby wine cask that was set against the wall. Retreating back into the shadows of the stairwell, Harry slipped silently back upstairs through the open door. The cells were still bathed in darkness, and the pull to go toward the far cages was magnetic. And this yen she was experiencing was tempered by the faint sounds of whimpering in the distance.

"Hermione…look at me please…" Helen pleaded, her weakened voice barely garnering the brunette's attention. "No matter what is about to happen little one, understand that you are loved. You are different than Tom. He has never known love, nor had he ever the capacity to love. That thing...that tried to take you, hasn't the capacity to love. Many terrible things have all happened in rapid succession for you, and your confusion is justified. But all that I ask when you come to the next crossroads, that inevitably lie ahead...you'll remember that I'll always love you." At that instant Harry returned from the upper floor, shuffling quickly down the steps. One of his hands was balled into a fist at his side, and he quickly approached Helen and Hermione before extending his arm.

Clutched in his outstretched fist was the ring, and with great trepidation Hermione took it in her own, placed gently into her palm by Harry. Helen's eyes followed the small glittering object as Hermione held it as though it were forged of lead. The fingers of Harry's right hand closed around Hermione's slender wrist while his left, lightly closed her unfurled fingers around the ring. The metal felt as cold as ice.

The portrait watched the silent exchange with tears in her eyes. "I hope that you'll do the right thing my dear."

"I trust you 'Mione." Harry said with his lopsided grin, his hair an asymmetrical sooty mess. "And…well…I'm here for you…no matter what."

She turned to make her way down the dimly lit corridor, the whimpers growing louder. Moving deeper into the cellar, the air seemed to grow damp, until she could suddenly hear the slapping noise of her feet landing in a pool of liquid. Instinctively her gaze fell to the floor; blood. A bread crumb trail of crimson droplets and small puddles guided her toward the slightly ajar cell door at the far end of the cellar hallway. The flourishing heart beats in her chest seemed to echo in her ears when she neared the edge of the cell.

Her hand reached out to brace against the cool stone wall of the cell doorframe as her neck craned forward to peer through the open entry.

There was hardly any light. Two figures were huddled together around a sprawled body, each of them with arms clutched tightly around the other. Both were weeping, sounding as though they were long out of breath from sobbing moments ago.

Both of the kneeling figures were blonde.

Hermione's legs rushed forward of their own accord. At the sounds of the brunette's shoes scraping along the floor Fleur whipped around, and her tear burned face erupted into an enormous beaming smile. Within her, Hermione's heart swelled with joy.

Hermione collided into the French woman, her desperate arms claiming her lover, crushing her small frame against her chest. Fleur responded in kind, and her lips found Hermione's in a desperate kiss. It was ferocious. It was hungry. But above all it was relieving. Fleur's hands came to rest upon Hermione's hips, and she tugged the girl even closer. They melted into one another for an ephemeral eternity. Hermione felt herself growing intoxicated over the taste of her lover's rapacious mouth. She was delirious with elation. Fleur was alive. As they pulled apart for air, neither said a word, but both were smiling wide amidst the blood, sweat and tears that covered their bodies. Their chests quaked with rapid heaving breaths.

Fleur leaned in for another embrace, and taking her into her arms, the brunette could feel how frail and tired the blonde witch was. Her fingers came to rest on the crown of Fleur's head. She turned her nose into the supple skin of Fleur's neck and she breathed two words, "You're free."

"H-h-h-hermione…?" The timid words came from Narcissa Malfoy, her hand pressed against her chest in hopeful shock. "Is…the Dark Lord...dead?" The brunette nodded, and gave a smile as she dislodged herself from Fleur to help the elder witch to her feet.

"You've…done…well." A third voice said from the floor, and immediately Hermione was roused from her happiness, and she looked upon the fallen form of Bellatrix Lestrange. All around her, a veritable lake of blood was seeping from her bullet wound, which appeared to have been torn open in the throes of a struggle. For every meager breath the woman took, a bit of blood would froth from the wound and dribble down the side of her leather corset to the floor.

"Bellatrix rescued us 'Ermy. Subduing Peter Pettigrew, and fighting several Death Eaters to free us." Fleur added with a despondent tone.

"Bella!" Hermione reached for the Death Eater's bloodied hand, only to earn a loud groan of protest. "They said you were dead! Let me go get Kara! See if the Order has healers!" Her voice was growing louder by the second.

Bellatrix quieted her with an open palm. "Hush...It's too...late for me…Hermione…" The raven-haired woman struggled to speak, each syllable accompanied with a gurgle as she breathed. Precious seconds trickled away like water through fingers, and Hermione sprung to her feet and ran toward the hallway.

"Harry!" She waved her arm frantically toward him. "Bring the painting here please!"

Harry complied, quickly grabbing Helen's portrait and scrambling down the dimly lit hallway. Reaching the cell door, he passed the frame to Hermione and followed her inside. Fleur smiled broadly once more and rushed toward Harry and hugged him tightly.

"Fleur!" Harry cried, enveloping the Veela with his arms. "Are you alright?"

"Oui…A bit rattled, a few bumps and bruises as 'zey say." She breathed, before gently gripping each of Harry's shoulders to hold him at arms length. Behind them Hermione held the portrait with trembling hands, angling it to face the dying Bellatrix.

"Helen...my love...we'll be...together...soon..." The dark witch wheezed.

Harry's face contorted into a deep scowl at the sight of Bellatrix sprawled on the ground, and his throat quivered as he prepared to speak. Fleur silenced him immediately.

"Let 'zem be 'arry. We 'ave experienced 'urt enough 'een one day to last a lifetime. Bellatix 'eez dying…just give 'zem a few moments peace…" Narcissa approached from behind the Frenchwoman, and Harry instantly recoiled.

"Mrs. Malfoy."

"Hello Harry." She spoke solemnly. When he did not immediately respond she continued. "I am well aware that you are not fond of me, and given the present circumstances I shall not endeavor to change your opinion of me. And I know that my sister has wronged you in the past, I won't try and argue that...but now she lies dying. Behind us a family is being torn asunder, and getting ready to say goodbye. It would behoove us to afford them a brief moment of privacy. Would be so kind as to escort an injured woman upstairs?" Narcissa's lips quivered as she struggled to fight back tears. "Pl-Please...I cannot sit here and watch my sister die..." Before he could respond, the Malfoy matriarch looped an arm around his, and with a few limping steps guided him away from the grieving women. Fleur turned to rejoin her lover, gently reaching for the portrait, and taking it from Hermione.

Bellatrix' outstretched hand was touching Helen's painted face, and the other was now being clasped tightly by Hermione. Tears were falling freely from Hermione's eyes, any moment now, Bellatrix would be gone.

It was cruel, Hermione thought as she watched her 'parents' say goodbye, she would be without a family once more. The Dark Lord finally lies dead, just meters above them, and he still managed to take something from her. The vitality that once ignited the very eyes of Bellatrix Black was rapidly fading; the skin of her face nearly translucent in its pallor. Her eyes roamed over to the bruised and bloodied French woman holding up the frame on her lap. Fleur turned as if she could physically feel her lover's gaze upon her and she returned the stare with a hopeful smile of her own between streaming tears. Hermione scooted closer to Fleur, not releasing Bellatrix' limp hand for a moment, and she gently rested her head on the blonde's shoulders. Fleur placed a small kiss on Hermione's scalp as they both looked upon Bellatrix.

"I will see you soon my dear…" Helen breathed, and despite the intense pain she was experiencing, Bellatrix gave a lopsided grin. The sight brought about a wave of sobs from Hermione, finding the scene to be unbearable.

"Je'taime 'Ermione. Tout ira bien." The fluidity of her lover's native tongue was soothing, and she heaved a deep sigh.

Bellatrix started to seize. "Her…her…hermione…" The elder witch rasped between her final breaths, blindly grabbing for the brunette, and the young witch clasped onto the flailing hand with both of her own, clutching it tight to her own beating heart. Hermione knelt forward in order to hear her godmother's words more clearly. "Do not…make…the same…mistakes…that I did…do not…allow yourself…to be guided…by anger…you are strong…brave…and have people…that...love...you…"

"Bella I-"

"I…love...you…Hermione…" And with that the faint breaths dissolved into the silence that permeated the cell. The dark witch's hand went slack in the brunette's grip. Helen whimpered lightly, as did Fleur. The French woman reach over with a free arm to gently ease Bellatrix' eyelids closed. Fleur lightly kissed Hermione's cheek.

And there, deep within the belly of the Malfoy Manor a new sense of resolve swelled within the young witch. Starting today she knew her food would taste better, the sun would shine brighter, and every kiss from Fleur would be more loving than the last. She gripped her lover's hand tightly, thousands of words of love conveyed through the simple gesture.

The brunette gave a slight motion and Fleur turned to gently prop Helen's frame against the nearby wall. When she turned back around, Hermione gathered both of the Frenchwoman's hands in her lap, before tenderly placing the silver band on one of Fleur's slender fingers. The Veela could only gasp and look up to gape at the young witch who was smiling broadly through raining tears. Hermione cupped the blonde's cheeks and drew her face closer to capture Fleur's lips in a chaste kiss. Once they pulled apart, she gently rested her forehead against her lover's. Delicate breaths tickled Hermione's lips as she could feel Fleur tense and shiver with anticipation. With a small chuckle Hermione calmly soothed the french witch.

"Fleur...make me a promise here and now..." She slowly began, her words chosen and deliberate. Behind Fleur, Helen had her fingers laced together held tightly against her chest. Upon Helen's face, there shone a beaming smile of hope.

"Bien sûr! Anyzing!" Fleur said softly while absently touching the silver band upon her finger.

"Promise me..." Hermione kissed her. "...that even if it's by one day..." Another kiss. "...that you'll outlive me..." One more. "...for I couldn't bare to be without you ever again."

And with a gentle nod, Fleur smiled.

* * *

**FINIS**


	27. My Beloved Monster

**EPILOGUE**

**

* * *

**

Only four people attended the private funeral of Bellatrix Black; Hermione Gaunt, Fleur Delacour, Narcissa Malfoy, and to everyone's surprise, Harry Potter. The elegant walnut casket was placed next to that of the late Helen Gaunt, and the tomb stone was emblazoned with both of their names:

_Here lies_

_Helen Clytamnestra Gaunt (1957-1979)_

_Bellatrix Hippolyte Black (1951-1999)_

_Not even Death could part them._

_

* * *

_

Under the direction of new Ministry, things began to grow brighter in England. Utilizing his power of celebrity, Harry spoke at length over the hypocrisy of the Partial-Human Security Program instilled by the former Wizengamot. After a landslide victory, Kingsley Shacklebot, the newest Minister for Magic made his first order of business a full abolishment of the offending laws, and promptly every phylactery issued in the country was destroyed. The second was helping to mend the damages of the attack on Buckingham Palace, and immediately the blame was placed upon Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters. The muggle Prime Minister was surprising cooperative in working to undo the damages done to the muggle populace. The Dark Lord's body was the face of the attack, plastered onto every newspaper and magazine. With a face to the crime, calm was slowly returning to muggle England.

In that time Hermione returned to Hogwarts to complete her studies. Though her relationship with Ron and Ginny Weasley was never restored, Harry Potter remained true to his word, and the friendship that was once so strained was now stronger than ever. His own relationship with Ginny ended amicably, and the two friends were inseparable for the final months of the school year. During those months Hermione revisited her mother's research, and began some of her own, sharpening her telekinetic skills throughout. Satisfied with her initial findings Hermione, and after unloading quite a lot of revelations, she successfully pitched the idea to Headmistress McGonagall. Minister Shacklebot was more than happy to award grant money to the young witch.

Fleur was given the high honor of aiding the Ministry in issuing reparations to all those affected by the Partial-Human Security Program, along with a handsome salary and small flat in Diagon Alley, in which Helen Gaunt's portrait hung proudly on the wall in the drawing room.

Mere hours after the Hogwarts Commencement Ceremony came to a close, Hermione promptly moved all of her personal effects into the small abode, finally taking the first step toward a new life with Fleur Delacour by her side.

* * *

A year later Bill and Karana exchanged their vows in a private commitment ceremony in London. Much to his surprise, the Weasley family accepted his Lyncanthropy, and instantly fell in love with Kara. Fleur and Hermione served as Maids of Honor. It was at the reception that both Fleur and Hermione were given a most precious gift from the new couple; Shell Cottage. Bill expressed a great desire to live and work in London alongside Kara whom already had grand dreams of finally opening her multi-discipline clinic. Both knew of the love both Fleur and Hermione had for the sea, and Bill considered the cottage a fitting home for them both.

They moved to shore a week later. The very first day in their new home was spent upon the cherry red surfboard. Both women perched on it rocking gently in the waves, watching the sun descend below the horizon, painting the sky in a multi-hued burst of color. Several friends came to help Fleur and Hermione decorate the house to their liking, adorning the walls with several picture frames, allowing Helen the ability to move throughout the house. The Grecian woman's melodious singing voice would fill the house every day, radiating happiness with every note and cadence.

Both Harry and Narcissa Malfoy were frequent visitors to the cottage, Narcissa would come to have tea and chat with Helen. And an endearing vivacity returned to the elder witch's life, her face now permanently adorned with a smile. Narcissa also all but adopted Fleur as her own daughter. And the french witch was eternally grateful for the new found family, her own unfortunately having severed ties with her upon learning of her new life in England. But Narcissa spared nothing in showing Fleur maternal affection and comfort.

When Hermione's 20th birthday arrived, Fleur presented the brunette with a rather large gift. Upon opening it however Hermione was rendered helpless to the tears of joy that flowed forth at the sight of a large portrait of a young Bellatrix Black. The woman in the painting awoke almost immediately, overjoyed to be reunited with the family she had grown to love in the final months of her life. There wasn't a moment when Helen and Bellatrix weren't in the same frame. They often sat tangled in each other's arms in the largest frame adorned above the fireplace.

Every night Hermione and Fleur curled up together atop their fourposter bed that faced large bay windows pointed at the sea. A chapter from one of Hermione's many books was their nightly lullaby, lulling each of the lovers into a blissful sleep. The stresses of the day carried away by ebbs of the gentle tide.

* * *

"Would you 'old still for just a minute 'Ermy! Must I dress you everywhere we go?" Fleur admonished the younger witch, reaching between them to fix the brunette's collar that had gone slightly askew during the short walk from the train station. Hermione clutched the umbrella tightly, struggling to hold it aloft as the french witch checked and rechecked Hermione's neatly ironed oxford and sweater combination. The light autumn rain spilled all around them, and they huddled close under the meager shelter of the umbrella. Hermione nervously wiped the soles of her boots on the welcome mat of the front steps they were standing upon. Fleur shivered as a breeze swept beneath the umbrella. Somewhere they could both hear the faint cries of a baby coming from within the house.

They exchanged a small kiss and both women heaved sighs. "Are you ready mon amor?" Fleur asked, and Hermione gave a slight nod before reaching with an outstretched finger for the doorbell.

Above the door bell there was a name plate that read: _"The Grangers"_

* * *

**A/N:**

_It's wonderful to be here,_

_It's certainly a thrill,_

_You're such a lovely audience,_

_We'd love to take you home with us,_

_We'd love to take you home._

-The Beatles, 'Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band'


End file.
